


it all will fall, fall right into place

by MovePastTheFeeling



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 85,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovePastTheFeeling/pseuds/MovePastTheFeeling
Summary: A sequel to my Agents of SHIELD/Supergirl crossover fic:"the universe is shaped exactly like the earth"The two universes are now connected. But that's only the beginning.The respective governments of both worlds can't decide on how to regulate movement between them. A stunning, bold attack leaves National City in a state of emergency, while a sinister plot unfolds in the background of it all.Amidst this new state of chaos, Daisy, Jemma, Kara, Lena, Sam, Alex, and all of their friends must fight for what they believe in, and for each other.(You really don't need to know much about Agents of SHIELD or Supergirl to read and enjoy this story)Tumblr,Twitter





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, we're back into it. Please enjoy, I've put a lot of time and love into this one and I've loved writing it. I like to think that I'm taking the story into interesting new places while still featuring the characters we all know and love so much! This story updates every Sunday, so I hope you all will follow along!
> 
> Also, if you're so inclined, please follow me on my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) as well as my brand spankin' new [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also posted at the end of the first story in this series, [the universe is shaped exactly like the earth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743141/chapters/43334069)

“…and now, join us today as we look back at the past three months here in National City.”

“It’s starting!” Jemma calls out.

Their friends, all talking and milling about her and Daisy’s penthouse, gather around the TV.

“As you all know, a lot has happened in our city in the past few months,” the newscaster continues. “We suffered through a second Daxamite invasion, which would’ve ended with the destruction of our city if not for the quick actions of an unnamed but heroic DEO consultant. This person used the Daxamite’s own dimension-hopping technology against them to move the entire city out of harm’s way of their attempted orbital bombardment.”

Everyone cheers. Daisy slides her arm around Jemma’s lower back, smiling at her.

“You’re my favorite unnamed DEO consultant,” Daisy says.

“What a sweet-talker you are,” Jemma says, grinning.

“Unfortunately, though brief as it was, the invasion still devastated the downtown area. Hundreds were injured, and the cost of repairs was astronomical. In addition to the disaster relief funding we received from the government, the city’s own L-Corp donated heavily to the rebuilding process.”   

“Yes we did!” Lena says, which elicits more cheers.

“Not only did the company contribute, but its famed CEO, Lena Luthor” – here the news show displays a picture of Lena, looking authoritative in a clean-cut suit and under lighting that accentuates her cheekbones – “dug into her own pockets to continue the flow of money into the city.”

“Great pic, L,” Daisy says.

“Thanks, they took it from my latest CatCo Media photoshoot,” Lena says, throwing a playful glance at Kara.

“However, we haven’t even gotten to the most incredible consequence of the Daxamite invasion,” the newscaster says. “Whatever technology the Daxamites used to travel between universes became overloaded after moving the city, and once we snapped back into place a distinctive beam of light formed.”

A picture of the beam is shown on screen, capturing how surreally bright it is, even during the day. The beam shoots right up into the clouds, its terminating point unseen.

“This beam of light allows us to travel back and forth between our new sister universe, known as Universe Nordica. This is a nearly unfathomable addition to all of our lives.”

The newscaster takes a pause for dramatic effect.

“However, the beam remains closed to the public, and for good reason. Research is still ongoing, and officials want to ensure that travel between universes is completely safe before it’s open to the public. In addition, the governments of both their world and our own want to make sure that travel is regulated in some way. Everyone has the same questions on their minds. Who will be allowed to use the beam? How will universal immigrants be selected and approved?  How heavily should the beams be regulated and guarded? How will law enforcement function with the possibility of criminals from another universe? Will businesses be allowed to cross over between worlds?”

“No borders!” Daisy shouts, which gets laughs and cheers across the room.

“These questions and more will be discussed at the upcoming Inter-Universal Peace Talks, which will be held at our very own Convention Center in downtown National City,” the newscaster says. “Though security will be heavy – there are talks that our own three-woman team of Kryptonians will be there – the Talks will be open to the press and to select members of the public, in addition to being simulcast on several channels and streamed online. Though we have a tentative date for this event, public officials from both worlds are still having discussions to even get to the point where they can both agree on what will even be discussed at the Peace Talks.”

The newscaster shuffles some papers around her desk, before clearing her throat and slightly leaning forward.

“And now, if I may, I would just like to say that I hope we can find a solution that safely opens our city up to people of the other universe,” she says. “Though we’ve had some bumps along the way, National City is a place that prides itself on its inclusivity. From our embracement of the LGBTQ community to the integration of aliens into our society, our city should continue to strive to be a shining beacon of these values. I hope that the representatives we send to the peace talks can fight for what we, as a city, believe in. Thank you.”

The broadcast shifts to interviews with witnesses of the Daxamite invasion, first responders, and other people affected by the chaos that’s happened in recent months. The crowd around the TV begins to disperse, as people break off into their own conversations or go hunting for food and drink.

“Quite a thing, isn’t it?” Jemma asks. “It’s been a crazy time here in National City.”

“I know,” Daisy says. “And we’re about to have a month under our belts at L-Corp. I can hardly believe that, too.”

“A stable job where we don’t get shot at,” Jemma says, a playful grin on her face. “Quite the dream.”

“Not only that, but we’re both technically DEO consultants,” Daisy says. “If Alex needs us for a mission, she knows where to find us.”

“You’ve already been complaining about how tired work makes you,” Jemma says. “And you still want to run missions?”

“Hey, don’t tease me,” Daisy says. “I love my job, but all I do is stand around and stare at a screen. I’ve probably overdosed on staring at screens by this point in my life.”

“A real struggle, getting paid to do the thing you love to do already,” Jemma says.

“I think living together has made my humor rub off on you,” Daisy says. “I don’t know if I like it.”

Jemma just laughs.

* * *

Outside on the patio, Lena finds Kara leaning against the railing, her blonde hair getting tousled by the wind.

“Girl of steel,” Lena calls out as she walks over to her. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about my upcoming trip,” Kara says. “It feels like forever since I’ve taken any time off.”

“Well, you’ve had a lot on your plate,” Lena says. “Protecting the city, training Sam, stopping an entire invasion – it’s a lot to carry on your shoulders. You deserve a little time off.”

“I never felt good about leaving the city before,” Kara says. “But now it seems like it’s in capable hands. I think it’s going to be okay.”

“It is going to be okay, Kara,” Lena says, reaching out to grab Kara’s hand. “I hope you enjoy your vacation.”

I will,” Kara says, smiling. “I always love going back to Midvale and seeming my mom. Now don’t get me wrong, I love National City, but there’s nothing quite like that small town vibe.”

“If you say so,” Lena says, grinning playfully at her.

“I’ll miss you when I’m gone,” Kara says.

“I know,” Lena says. “I’ll miss you too. But I’m only a phone call away.”

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Sam is slowly grazing through the available snacks while Alex leans against one of the countertops and tries to look disaffected.

“Hey, you want another beer?” Sam asks around a mouthful of hummus and carrots.

“I love you, but your eating habits are so gross,” Alex says, a slight grin on her face. “And yes, I will take a beer.”

“Sure, I’ll get you a bottle of that fancy IPA swill that you like,” Sam says.

She grabs a bottle out of the fridge and casually pops the cap off with her thumb, handing it to Alex with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Showoff,” Alex says, before taking a long swig of the drink. “So, are you excited to take over as the sole super-person in this city?”

“Well, Daisy is still here,” Sam says. “And I can’t even dissolve matter like she can. Is that concerning to anyone else?”

“No, I’m terrified,” Alex says. “But, at the same time, she still can’t fly.”

“A fair point,” Sam says. “I think I’m ready. I’ve been training a lot with Kara, and she’s been telling me everything she knows. I want to show the city that I’m worthy of protecting it. I’m more than what I once was.”

“You are,” Alex says. “Everyone else will see that, too. In time.”

Sam exhales audibly.

“In time,” she says.

* * *

Slowly, as the shadows grow long and the sun sinks in the sky, people begin to filter out of the party until only Daisy and Jemma remain. The sun, sunk nearly completely below the horizon, throws a few wayward beams of light into their apartment, suffusing it with a golden glow.

“That was fun,” Daisy says.

“It was,” Jemma says. “I can hardly believe we’re in a place in our lives where we can entertain our friends in our own home.”

“Well, technically, this is still Lena’s property,” Daisy says.

“Indeed, she does have too much money,” Jemma says.

The two of them occupy themselves with leisurely cleaning up the remains of the party.

“I wish our friends from our own universe could come,” Daisy says. “I wish they would just figure out this whole situation.”

“I do too,” Jemma says. “But we’re in a very delicate situation as it stands. And nobody can agree on anything in one world; now, we’re asking people from two to come together and strive for peace.”

“Some days it just seems impossible,” Daisy says. “Especially the only solution I want to see happen is for fully open exchange between both universes, and nobody seems to be fighting for that.”

“People are fighting for that,” Jemma says. “Politicians and corporations aren’t.”

Daisy sighs.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Daisy says. “There’s not much we can do.”

“You can try calling your local representative,” Jemma says, a grin on her face.

“Screw that,” Daisy says. “I know that Lena is involved in all of this. I’m going to get her to push this through.”

“A good plan,” Jemma says. “We all know how famously pliable the ultra-successful Lena Luthor is.”

* * *

Finally, feeling satisfied with her progress, Jemma closes her book and switches off the lamp by her side of the bed.

“Finished reading your nerd book?” Daisy asks.

“Shush, you,” Jemma says. “It’s a good read. Honest!”

Daisy laughs before leaning forward to kiss Jemma on the lips.

“Good night, nerd,” Daisy says. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll make pancakes.”

Jemma smiles fondly at her.

“Good night, my Daisy,” Jemma says. “And I’m holding you to that.”


	2. Bomb Thrown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, hey guys, come follow me on my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) and/or my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)

The alarm goes off, and Daisy reaches blindly out with her hand, trying to slap the button to shut off the incessant beeping. When she fails yet again at doing so, she reaches out with her powers, senses the precise location of the correct button to press, and applies pressure with the gentlest application of vibrational manipulation. Blissfully, the beeping stops. She can hear Jemma stir, the mattress rebounding slightly as she gets off the bed.

Daisy sighs. It’s a Monday, which means another day of work. No more lounging around with Jemma, no more exploring the city they now call home, no more going out with friends. No, now she has to be Daisy Wang, cyber security analyst extraordinaire, someone who definitely doesn’t have specialized training as a spy or is good friends with some of the most powerful and influential people in the city. Just a normal woman working her nine-to-five. She pushes herself up off the bed and walks over to the dresser.

She’s surprised that no one has recognized her yet, given just how popular “Quake” had become in that brief period of activity with the attacks on Lena and the Daxamite invasion, but she supposes that she does look different out of her futuristic combat suit. Plus, at Kara’s suggestion, she’s gotten a haircut to help hide her identity – the sides of her head have been shaven down, and she tends to wear what’s left in a top-knot – and she’s experimenting with a more business-friendly wardrobe, one with fewer leather jackets.

A lot of her identity and abilities have been obscured by efforts from the DEO as well, a gift from Alex. Because of the chaos that was the end of the Daxamite Invasion, the public doesn’t have a clear picture of exactly what happened. They don’t know that she can dissolve objects at a molecular level or that she can theoretically move between the two worlds without any outside assistance. And they certainly don’t know that she’s hanging up her gauntlets, for now, to work for L-Corp. Conversely, back in her own world, only Coulson and the team, as well as a few members of the Avengers, even know where she and Jemma are.

Daisy is shaken from her thoughts by a gentle touch to the small of her back.

“Morning, darling,” Jemma says. “I can hear your thoughts from around the room.”

Daisy smiles and turn around in Jemma’s loose embrace and kisses her on the lips.

“It’s nothing,” Daisy says. “You know how I am before I’ve had my coffee.”

“I realize,” Jemma says. “Are you still worried about work? It seems like you’ve been doing very well.”  

Daisy sighs, now finding herself unable to meet Jemma’s soft gaze.

“It’s been a weird transition,” Daisy says. “It all feels so normal. Too normal. Like it’s not meant for me.”

“I understand, but you can’t think that way,” Jemma says, rubbing Daisy’s arm. “If anyone deserves a bit of normalcy, it’s you.”

“Yeah, I suppose we both do,” Daisy says.

“Besides, we’ve only been in this universe for three months, and we’ve only had these jobs for two,” Jemma says. “Just give it more time. It’ll start feeling more natural before you know it.”

Daisy nods, and she looks down to see the morning light glinting off the polished carbon fiber of Jemma’s prosthetic forearm.

“How’s the new model?” Daisy asks.

“Oh, it’s been working beautifully,” Jemma says. “Fitz and Lena have really improved the response times. I’m getting more and more used to it.”

“Well, to another day of getting used to it,” Daisy says, a half-grin on her face.

“Indeed,” Jemma says, smiling. “An admirable goal.”

* * *

Given how close their apartment building is to the L-Corp building, they walk to work, stopping off first at a nearby coffee shop for breakfast and much-needed caffeine. The coffee shop has a modern yet homely atmosphere, with plenty of vibrant, green plants, cozy seating, and a wide array of coffees, teas, baked goods, and more. The two of them have already come here so much that most of the staff knows them by name. For a couple of former secret agents, Daisy figures they’ve been doing an admirable job of genuinely becoming embedded in the neighborhood.  

Jemma orders a cup of chai tea and a scone, while Daisy opts for a massive cup of sugary coffee and a greasy, protein-heavy breakfast sandwich. They take their breakfast to a two-person table by the large windows that face out to the street, so that they can enjoy the early-morning sun and people-watch.

“I still don’t understand how you can consume so much caffeine,” Jemma says.

“It’s a holdover from my van years,” Daisy says, with more than a hint of humor. “It’s hard to get proper sleep on a van, so I need caffeine to fuel my fire to fight the man. Also, it’s an appetite suppressant, and I didn’t exactly have a lot of liquid assets to spend on food.”

“Oh my god, Daisy,” Jemma says. “Thank goodness SHIELD found you.”

Daisy laughs.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Daisy says. “I can’t believe I lived in my van. And that I wore so many weird flannel shirts.”

Jemma looks out the window and smiles, letting the warm sunlight wash over her.

“I think those flannel shirts were very cute. And, you know, I think we’ve done pretty well for ourselves,” Jemma says. “There were several moments in SHIELD where I never imagined that we’d get to a point like this.”

“Agreed. I sincerely hope that we’ll face fewer world-ending threats from here on out,” Daisy says. “Though with the situation over the beams, who know what will happen.”

Jemma sighs.

“I know,” Jemma says. “The tenuous ‘peace’ that exists now, between the two connected universes, certainly won’t last. And whatever replaces it will be either a long-term solution for cooperation, or a complete separation.”

“Politics I’ll leave to the experts,” Daisy says. “I’ll just be happy if we don’t have to stop another invasion.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Jemma says, grinning. “I’d rather not have to inter-universally transport an entire city again.”

“Yeah, please don’t,” Daisy says. “Lena once showed me the cost of repairing the city after that, and it was shocking.” 

* * *

From there, the two of them walk to the L-Corp building, whose glass windows gleam in the morning sun. Given the time of day, the roads and sidewalks alike have grown congested with traffic with everyone rushing to get to work on time. Daisy had never once imagined that she’d ever be joining the 9-to-5 grind, and yet here she is, just another figure in the crowd. When she was young, she could never even imagine a future for herself, and even during her time with the Rising Tide she couldn’t see the end to their revolution, having never quite shared in their visions of a utopian future.

They step into the lobby, the security systems automatically running advanced facial-recognition software on them, reading the RFID tags in their badges, and even analyzing the way they walk. After the many attacks on the building, Lena has spared no expense in upgrading all of the security systems. And, given how much more closely the company is working with the city and state governments as well as with the DEO regarding the study and protection of the beam, Lena has no doubt in her mind that there’s going to be another incident. Daisy certainly can’t disagree; she’s just glad that she’s working in the building, so she can respond to any attacks if they are to happen.

“Well, here’s to a good and hopefully not-too-stressful Monday,” Jemma says with a smile. “Are you still planning on sparring with Sam after work?”

“Yup, as long as she’s not too busy,” Daisy says. “She is the one Kryptonian in town, after all.”

“That’s right, Kara’s still in Midvale,” Jemma says. “And what’s Astra doing, again?”

“Who knows,” Daisy says. “Probably off observing coral mating patterns or something like that.”

Jemma laughs.

“Yes, of course, ‘something like that,’” she says. “Well, have a good day. I’ll try and meet you for lunch, alright?”

“I’d like that. Though don’t worry if you can’t make it, Ms. Director of the Labs,” Daisy says. “Have fun in the dungeon today.”

Jemma rolls her eyes, though there’s a smile on her face. “The dungeon” is the nickname for the below-ground levels where L-Corp’s sensitive biological research/biotechnology development division resides.

“I always do,” Jemma says. “Don’t rub it in my face that the cybersecurity department just got their offices renovated.”

“It’s kind of hard not to,” Daisy says. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, you will,” Jemma says. “Have a good day, darling.”  

They quickly kiss before heading off in opposites directions – Jemma takes the secure elevator down to the “dungeon,” while Daisy takes the elevator up to the floor dedicated to the cybersecurity department. She makes her way to her desk, though she also is sure to say good morning to all of her coworkers – another piece of advice from Kara.

Because Lena has turned L-Corp into a hyper-modern, multi-billion-dollar company, all of their office spaces are well-designed and comfortable, with plenty of plants, a spacious and comfortable breakroom, windows that shamelessly let in the National City sunlight, and standing desks for everyone. It’s certainly not the worst place to work.

Daisy still finds it very strange that she has a so-called “real job” now, with her own desk and her ID badge on a zip cord attached to the waistband of her pants and everything. Over the past month, at the urging of Kara, who’s been helping her to blend in as much as possible, she’s been decorating her desk with an assortment of pictures and knick-knacks and other such miscellanea. There’s a dancing hula girl meant for car dashboards, a miniature replica of Captain America’s shield (which has become a surprising piece of counter-culture iconography ever since he went rogue), and a bisexual pride flag. Then, of course, there’s the piece de resistance – a picture of her and Jemma, taken at the beach near their apartment. It always makes her smile when she sees it, and this morning is no exception.

She’s already started messing with one of the L-Corp’s internal firewall systems when her coworker that sits in the desk opposite to her walks in, the bags beneath his eyes looking especially pronounced. Daisy has enjoyed his company since day one, though, and felt a certain surge of solidarity when she saw his desk adorned with a classic rainbow pride flag.  

“You doing alright, man?” Daisy asks, amused.

He sighs audibly and sets his coffee down heavily, the hot liquid nearly sloshing over the sides in the process.  

“Mondays, right?” he asks. “Man, what a cliché I am. How was your weekend?”

Daisy thinks back on her weekend, which mostly involved her and Jemma floating around their pool, sipping on homemade cocktails.

“Oh, you know, hung out at home,” Daisy says. “The usual. Have to rest up for the grind, you know?”

Kara always tells her to slip in generic phrases when she’s talking just to keep people at ease. It seems to be working.

“For sure, sister,” he says. “Hey, have you been following the whole inter-universal peace summit thing?”  

Daisy shrugs, her face the perfect picture of practiced nonchalance.

“Yeah, I’ve seen some stuff on the news about it,” Daisy says. “Why, did something happen?” 

“Not enough is happening, if you ask me,” he says. “We have a literal portal to another universe in the heart of downtown National City, and the politicians of both worlds want to squabble over it? I want to see if I can meet my alternate-universe self over there!”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Daisy says. “Though, if it does, I wonder if your alternate self is better at exploiting security holes in our servers.”

“Wow, talking trash already, you two-monther?” he asks. “You better check yourself before I Stuxnet you, dude.”

They both laugh. Daisy’s coworker is about to say something more when their manager very subtly makes her presence known by trying and failing to lean casually against their desks.

“Hey, guys! Is this work-appropriate chatter?” she asks. “Ah, just kidding. You guys can talk, this is the cool department after all.”

She laughs alone.

“But, seriously though, we have to keep those productivity numbers up,” she says. “So, keep up the good work!”

She slaps her hand against the desk for emphasis and walks back off.

“She’s so weird,” Daisy’s coworker says when she’s out of earshot.

“Work, am I right?” Daisy says, which is what she always says when she doesn’t want to make an actual point.

“Right on the nose,” he says. “Anyway, I guess we should get to it. I’m still working on poking holes in our intranet communications systems, and I’ve been able to do some pretty nasty stuff with attachments. What project are you on, again?”

“Still in the server systems,” Daisy says. “Our firewall is insane, but we’re still vulnerable to physical intrusion.”

“Well, hard to avoid that,” he says. “Unless we hire more security guards!”

“True that,” Daisy says.

“You know, we might need to,” he says. “You’ve heard that dumb reactionary group is still around, right?”

“The ones who really hate us because Lena is pro-alien?” Daisy asks. “Yeah, hard not to worry about them.”

Which is, of course, a lie, and Daisy wants nothing more than to reveal that she’s fought and won against them already.

“Our security is decent, so I wouldn’t worry too much,” he says. “Still, though, they do really hate us!”

He laughs awkwardly until he realizes that Daisy hasn’t joined in, so he clears his throat and turns to face his computer. That’s almost enough to make Daisy crack up, so she grins at him and starts working herself – it’s going to be another long day poking holes at the seemingly impregnable L-Corp firewall.

* * *

Jemma reveals that she and her team are doing some fascinating things with bacterial genetics right around lunchtime, so Daisy figures that she should leave them be to play with their microscopic friends rather than pull Jemma away for a quick lunch.

* * *

Daisy clocks out, as she always does, right at five. She figures it’s the least she deserves for unfailingly getting to work five minutes early, thanks to Jemma’s stringent morning schedule. And, of course, she makes sure to say goodbye to everyone who’s still there – another Kara tip. Though she’s not sure if that helps her cover so much as Kara just wanting her to be polite.

The elevator whisks her downstairs, and she basks in the sunlight after stepping out of the lobby. Sam is already there, though, parked illegally by the curb in her sleek, black luxury sedan. She lowers her window (and her designer sunglasses) and honks her horn, catching Daisy’s attention.

“Hey, Arias,” Daisy greets, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Quake,” Sam says. “Another fun day of trying to break into L-Corp systems?”

“You know it,” Daisy says. “How are you doing?”

 You know me, hanging out at home, doing laundry, waiting for crime to happen for me to stop,” Sam says. “The usual.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a cool life,” Daisy says. “Let’s get going, I feel a need to throw some hands.”

* * *

They quickly make their way to the DEO headquarters, the only place where Daisy could safely spar with a Kryptonian. Though she’s working for L-Corp now, Daisy is still technically a DEO consultant. At this point, though, it mostly means that she can use their gym and showers, which is really what she’s after anyway.

Alex is still there working when they walk in, and she barely even looks up to greet them.

“You two here to beat each other up?” she asks.

Daisy and Sam look at one another.

“I mean, basically,” Daisy says with a shrug.

“Just remember to turn the Kryptonite emitters off this time,” Alex says, finally looking up from the topographical map she’s studying. “Those things burn through a lot of electricity.”

“You got it, Danvers,” Sam says, while Daisy mock salutes her.

Alex rolls her eyes.

* * *

The two friends change into workout clothes and head to the Kryptonian sparring ring – the only one surrounded by Kryptonite emitters. Before they can start, though, Sam has to get adjusted to the sensation of the emitters affecting her mind and body. Even though they’ve been carefully, exhaustingly calibrated in order to be safe for use, Kryptonite’s inherent toxicity is still a lot to handle.

“Okay, I’m good,” Sam says. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” Daisy asks.

Sam nods.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” she says.

They tap gloves before backing up and settling into fighting stances. Sam stands with her hands hanging down by her hips, ready to react to any strikes thrown her way while Daisy stands with her hands spaced out in front of her face, palms open.

Wanting to start off easy, Daisy opens with a simple front kick, which Sam easily blocks and bounds out of the way, circling around the edge of the ring. Sam counters with two exploratory jabs, which Daisy easily avoids.

“How has work been?” Sam asks as she launches her next series of strikes.

“It’s been good,” Daisy says, dodging a kick and retaliating with one of her own. “Kind of fun, actually. It’s been a while I was let loose on security systems like this.”

Sam laughs, though she quickly has to focus up to avoid Daisy’s three-strike combination, that nearly lands.

“Yeah, Lena figured you might like that,” Sam says. “I think she’s also glad you’re doing it on her payroll, rather than just doing it for fun.”

“Savvy,” Daisy says. “That’s why she’s the big, famous businesswoman, and I’m just a code monkey in the trenches.”

Sam snorts and narrowly dodges a pair of punches.

“I don’t think you can call yourself a ‘code monkey’ with that salary and that penthouse,” Sam says. “But, yeah, Lena is a genius, and you guys haven’t even seen anything yet.”

“Oh, I believe it,” Daisy says. “Woman of depth.”

Daisy accentuates that statement by feinting an overhand strike, which gets Sam’s guard up and leaves her open to a kick that lands right on the side of her torso. Sam winces and quickly backs off again, narrowly avoiding the spinning kick that Daisy attempts.

“Not throwing any elbows today?” Sam asks with a grin.

“I’m working on it,” Daisy says. “You know you’re, like, three inches taller than me with a huge wingspan, right? I’ll get there.”

As if to prove her point, Daisy kicks low, moving Sam’s guard, and she immediately follows up with a lightning-fast one-two combo which she tries to finish off with a spinning back elbow. The punches land, but Sam jerks her head out of the way just in time to avoid the elbow.

“I guess I shouldn’t have brought that up, huh?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, you know me,” Daisy says. “Just can’t resist.”

They exchange a few more blows, but at slightly lower intensity. Neither wants to completely burn out on energy quite yet, and they both enjoy the sensation of hand-to-hand-combat.

“How do you like being a full-time superhero?” Daisy asks.

Sam shrugs.

“It’s been alright,” Sam says. “I get to spend more time with my daughter, which is great. My schedule is very flexible so long as not too much crime is happening.”

She interrupts herself by trying to sweep Daisy’s legs out from beneath her. Daisy, though, is quick to dodge and retaliates by kicking at Sam’s lead leg, just hard enough to make her cautious.

“Plus, the public is starting to trust me, which is nice,” Sam continues, bouncing on her feet and trying to stay mobile. “I’m not just the scary version of Supergirl anymore.”

Daisy laughs.

“Yeah, well, you do still dress in all black,” Daisy says. “That’s the kind of thing the public really clings on to.”

“Hey, your suit is black, too,” Sam says. “You’re one to talk.”

Sam makes another move forward, but Daisy once again kicks at her lead leg to dissuade her from trying anything. Daisy follows that up with another quick feint with her leg. This time, though, Sam overthinks things and doesn’t lower her guard, so Daisy throws another kick, enough to cause Sam to wince ever so slightly and lower her hands in response.

That’s all the opening that Daisy needs. She throws a quick one-two combo followed up with another elbow, gets inside Sam’s guard, and executes a picture-perfect hip throw to get her on the ground. Daisy then fluidly transitions that into an armbar, to which Sam quickly taps. They both get back up, sweat dripping down their temples and their chests heaving from exertion, but both satisfied with their training.

“You always get me with that,” Sam says. “I guess whatever Kryptonian fight training is in my head doesn’t protect me from Judo throws.”

Daisy laughs and pushes a sweaty strand of hair away from her face.

“Here, I’ll teach you the throw,” Daisy says. “Best way to defend against something is to know how it works.”

“Alright, let’s do this,” Sam says.

The two of them work on throws for the rest of their sparring session, until Sam feels more comfortable with them. She can get away with a lot just because she can fly, but it still feels good to learn some more conventional fighting tactics. Plus, she figures if she’s going to learn from anyone, Daisy is one of the best.

* * *

“I’m still not entirely clear on why you need all of this information,” Coulson says.

“My team is assessing the relative strength of the other universe,” Ross says. “Specifically, we want to see what sort of enhanced individuals they have over there.”

“Well, the DEO has been very forthcoming in sharing data,” Coulson says. “You should have fairly extensive files on the Kryptonians, as do I. I don’t see why…”

“Don’t play coy with me, Coulson,” Ross says. “I know that they’ve been trying to keep it under wraps, but I know there are two former members of your team over on that side. Jemma Simmons and Daisy Johnson. Don’t try and deny it, we’ve gotten access to what footage there is from the Daxamite Invasion.”

“Well, you should have a lot of information about them already,” Coulson says. “They were in SHIELD for a long time, and most SHIELD personnel information is now out in the world, thanks to Ms. Romanoff. Oh, and Daisy was hunted down as a vigilante, so there should be plenty about her floating around, too.”

“Look, let’s not pretend that you and your team, former members included, haven’t cultivated a close relationship over the years,” Ross says. “You know things about them that nobody else would.”

“Why do you think that would help with the peace summit?” Coulson asks. “I’m struggling to see the relevance.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Ross says. “To demystify our strategy. We just need to be informed about the many moving parts in the lead up to the peace talks. I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

“Alright, I can get a report together for you,” Coulson says. “I’m a busy man, Mr. Secretary, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I know you will, Coulson,” Ross says. “We’ll speak soon.”

The call cuts off and Coulson sighs audibly, leaning against his desk. Ross is a key figure in the upcoming peace talks between their universe and the other, and Coulson certainly doesn’t like it. There seems to be plenty of evidence that Ross is an ineffective leader, given his handling of the Sokovia Accords and the subsequent fallout, but so far, he’s proven to be untouchable, at least politically.

Against his better judgement, Coulson starts putting the report on Daisy together. He’s not entirely sure what information that he could provide that isn’t already available to someone with Ross’s security clearance, but he figures he can at least put in a good word for her. Daisy is still a controversial figure at best, and to clear some of the misconceptions surrounding her up is the least that he can do.

* * *

Daisy heads home later than she had expected – Sam’s enthusiasm for combat training is admirable, though exhausting. The sun has already set, and the streetlights have all flickered on, granting a reprieve from the heat of the Southern Californian daytime. Daisy heads straight for the penthouse’s private elevator once she gets back, which quickly whisks her up to her living space.  

She’s surprised to find Lena there, hanging out with Jemma on the couch as they no doubt discuss some topic in modern biotech research that Daisy couldn’t hope to understand. In other words – she’s more than happy to see Lena.

“Hey, nerds,” Daisy greets. “Lena, I’m glad to see you’ve left the office before nine. I’ll have to let Kara know how well you’re doing.”

“Rude,” Lena says. “I’ll let you know that I’ve consistently left the office at seven for the last month.”

“Only to get to your meetings at eight for the inter-universal peace summit,” Jemma says.

“You two are ganging up on me!” Lena says. “You invite me into your beautiful home just to berate me?”

“I did give you tea,” Jemma says. “I feel like that balanced it out.”

“Is that from that cute coffee shop you guys go to?” Lena asks.

“You know it is,” Daisy says, being purposefully obnoxious as she leaps over the couch and sits between Lena and Jemma. “We’ve pumped so much of our money into them already.”

“It’s very noble of you to support local businesses,” Lena says. “I applaud you both.”

“If someone is going to feed Daisy’s obsession with caffeine and breakfast sandwiches, it might as well be a locally-owned establishment,” Jemma says. “Just doing our part.”

“And now I’m getting lambasted,” Daisy says. “After I just spent all that time getting beat up by Sam.”

“Yes, but you two love beating each other up,” Lena says.

Daisy just grins back at her.

“How is the summit shaping up?” Jemma asks.

Lena sighs.

“It’s a mess, honestly,” Lena says. “Our President is still dedicated to fighting for open travel and exchange between the two universes, but the other side is so suspicious and overly cautious. Secretary Ross hates every single proposal we put forward, no matter how conservative.”

“He has so much power for being such a controversial dude,” Daisy says. “Trust me, we don’t like him so much on the other side.”

“I also think that he dislikes me being involved, specifically,” Lena says. “No matter how many times our governor has to explain how vital my company has been in studying the beam and in repairing the city.”

“Is he still pushing for increased military presence at the beam sites?” Jemma asks. “As well as taking away certain information privileges from civilian researchers?”

“You know he is,” Lena says. “He’s been so frustrating. It’s clear that he doesn’t fully understand the science, so he doesn’t understand how important open and clear communication between our teams of researchers is.”

“To be fair, none of us understand all of the science,” Jemma says. “We’re in uncharted waters here. We still don’t even know where those original cubes came from.”

“Yeah, shouldn’t we know more about them by this point?” Daisy asks. “Just one of those cubes transported an entire Daxamite fleet between universes. And the whole city. And created the beams.”

“Exactly why we don’t understand them,” Jemma says. “They’re as complex as they are powerful.”

“That’s true,” Lena says. “We have so much left to learn. I just don’t want Ross interfering with our attempts to understand this incredible phenomenon.”

“Ross’s approval ratings have been dropping like crazy ever since the Sokovia Accords,” Daisy says. “Basically every single Inhuman hates him, and, slowly, everyone else is starting to turn against him, too. You may not have to deal with him much longer.”

“I know his type, though,” Lena says. “He’s at least going to cling onto power until the summit. If he can get his policies into place, I very much doubt he’ll care what happens after that.”

“We just need President Marsden and her associates to stay strong,” Jemma says. “I’d think we’d all like to see our universes become fully integrated.”

“Certainly,” Lena says. “At this point, though, I’m just glad you’ve decided to stick around.”

“Us too,” Daisy says. “I’d have to have to move again.”

* * *

As the three friends are spending time together, a white van makes its way down the lonely streets of National City at night, with seldom few other vehicles around to slow it down. The driver stops dutifully at every red light, even with a complete lack of cross-traffic, signals every turn, and always drives within five of the speed limit. The van rolls to a stop about a block away from the perimeter surrounding the facility that contain the Interdimensional Frequency-Equalized Space-Time Bridge (or IFESTB) – better known simply as the beam.

The van’s doors open and out stream eight men, dressed in all-black with surgical masks covering the lower halves of their faces and beanies pulled tightly over their heads. They each carry large black duffel bags in their latex-gloved hands, while one man also has on a large hiking backpack. They move swiftly, making almost no noise as they do so.

The roads are shut down for a two block radius around the beam, and each blockaded street is guarded 24/7 by highly-regarded members of the local police, the nearby military base, and the DEO. The public certainly knows not to even get close. In fact, so intimidating is the aura that surrounds the beam that no one has even attempted to get past all of the security in all the time that the research facility has been set up. That changes tonight. And so, the men have already bribed one of the guards stationed at a wayward side street that also provides access to the beam.

The guard honors their agreement, and the men slip through without raising any alarms, shadows in the night. In an abandoned storefront about a block away from the beam, the men open up their duffel bags and pull out lead-lined assault rifles and high-powered handguns, which they sling around their shoulders and place into holsters.

The building that surrounds the beam of light, formerly a hotel, has been converted into a full-time research station, with more guards posted outside. However, due to careful monitoring thanks to a high-powered camera affixed to a drone, the men have memorized the guard rotations, and have chosen this moment to knife in, unnoticed. Inside there’s limited security, given the fear that guards or their equipment may unknowingly tamper with the beam. So, the men can continue unimpeded to the beam.

They make their way all the way to the room that surrounds the beam, which sends out an eerie, otherworldly glow, the light spilling out like liquid and oozing out over the surfaces of all the scientific equipment that face it. The shadows are long and soft, blended in with the light like an expressionist painting.

They aren’t there to admire the wonders of this strange connection to another universe, however. The man with the backpack sets it down and opens it up, and he and one of his compatriots pull out a gleaming, metallic explosive device. They place the bomb right in front of the beam.

One of the men, who’s keeping watch on the doors, looks briefly at the two men to check on their work. When he looks back up, a tall, powerful figure is standing right in front of him. Her armor is sleek and jet-black with golden elements throughout, with overlapping protective plates that make it look at once futuristic and of the old world. The cape that is clipped to her shoulders and falls to her ankles broadens her silhouette, making her appear even more intimidating.

Formerly the scourge of National City and now one of its many protectors –Samantha Arias, Blackbird, Reign-No-More.

“End of the line,” Sam says.

“It’s too late,” the man closest to the explosive says. “You can’t stop us now.”

Sam uses her X-ray on the device and sees that it only has moments until it blows. The men sprint out of the room all around her as she flies towards the bomb, trying to wrap her arms it. She almost makes it.

The device explodes and Sam takes the brunt of it, but the explosion is powerful enough that it still ruins most of the equipment in the room. Not only that, but the explosion travels through the beam, carrying out its devastation on that side as well. She can feel the force of the blast compressing her armor against her chest, and though it doesn’t injure her nigh-impenetrable Kryptonian skin, it’s not a sensation she’d like to experience again. 

The explosions stops as quickly as it happens, leaving only destruction in its wake. Sam stands up and inspects her charred, dented armor and the devastated room around her. This scene isn’t going to play well with anyone, and there’s already been tension between the two universes. She brushes herself off, banishes those thoughts from her head, and flies off in pursuit of the eight men.

Even with their head start, they weren’t able to make it far – certainly not far enough to escape the wrath of an angry Kryptonian. Sam uses her X-Ray vision to locate them in the sewer systems, and she apprehends all of them with ease. She calls in the DEO to come and pick them up.

* * *

The sound of the explosion echoes across National City.

Daisy jolts upright in bed and quickly swings her legs over the side of the bed and starts walking out of the bedroom, leaving a confused and half-asleep Jemma in her wake. She moves with a mechanical precision that’s born from years of tactical training as she grabs her ICER and steps out onto the patio, trying to determine the origin of the explosion. Finally, she sees a few licks of flame and a thick column of smoke rising into the night sky, surreally illuminated by the beam of light.

“Daisy, what’s going on?” Jemma asks.

“Did you hear that explosion?” Daisy asks, to which Jemma nods. “Look.”

It takes Jemma a few moments to register what’s going on.

“Oh my god,” Jemma says. “That’s horrible. Have you heard from Alex?”

Daisy shakes her head.

“They’re probably scrambling at the DEO,” Daisy says. “They just run a skeleton crew at night.”

“What a nightmare,” Jemma says. “Who could have done this?”

“I don’t know,” Daisy says. “Should we…”

She lets her voice trail off, the question on both of their minds remaining unspoken.

“I don’t know if it’s our place anymore,” Jemma says. “We can’t always rush towards danger.”

“No, I guess you’re right,” Daisy says. “I just hate standing here and looking at it.”

“That’s implicitly what we signed up for,” Jemma says. “I mean, yes, we do consult with the DEO, but that’s if they reach out to us first.”

Daisy sighs, loosening the grip on her ICER.

“If Alex contacts us, then we go,” Daisy says.

“Agreed,” Jemma says.

* * *

When Sam arrives at the DEO HQ, Alex regards her appearance with barely-concealed concern, and Sam has to remind herself to remain professional. Right now, she’d like nothing more than to fall into her partner’s embrace, but there’s no time for that now.

“Explosion at the beam,” Sam says. “Contact Nordica.”

Alex nods and heads to the room that contains the experimental trans-universal communications device, so that she can contact her equivalent in the other universe – SHIELD’s very own Phil Coulson. The other universe, so called “Universe Nordica” due to the unique presence of the Asgardians and the Nine Realms, is certainly not going to be happy about this – so far, this is the first direct attack on the beams. Universe Kryptonia, so named for the Kryptonians, of course, will certainly be blamed as a whole for this incident, setting their discussions back to the dark ages. Alex sighs and steels herself, knowing that at least Coulson will be reasonable about this.

Coulson answers quickly and Alex explains the situation to him, assuring him that once they finish interrogating the perpetrators that he’ll be the first to know what they have to say.

“I appreciate your open communication regarding this matter,” Coulson says. “Unfortunately, I doubt the rest of the US intelligence community will feel the same way.”

Alex folds her arms across her chest.

“Yeah, I figured,” Alex says. “The blast affected your side of the beam, too. That’s not going to play well with the politicians.”

“Nothing plays well with our politicians,” Coulson says flatly.

“Don’t I know it,” Alex says. “Look, I have to go and inform the rest of my team. Let me know if any of you lovable Nordica officials want to talk to Blackbird, because I want to be there, too.”

“As director of the DEO, you certainly have that right,” Coulson says. “I’ll relay this news and let you know what I hear. I’m going to tell you now, though, it won’t be pretty.”

“I’m figuring it’s leaning more towards ‘inter-universal terrorist crisis’ than ‘hey, it’s no big deal,’” Alex says. “I get that about right?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Coulson says. “Get some sleep, Director Danvers. It’s past my bedtime, too.”

“You know I won’t,” Alex says. “Talk to you later, Coulson.”

The line drops out and Alex stands there alone in the communications room for a moment, turning her thoughts over in her head. Even though she’s joking about it, she knows that politicians across the board over in Nordica won’t be happy about this. It was their security forces who failed, after all, and even their big, bad Kryptonian didn’t make it in time to stop it. Alex certainly doesn’t blame Sam, of course, since she’s still only one person, but not many others will see it that way.

Alex heads back out to the main control room of HQ where Sam is standing, looking worried. She heads over to her first.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” Alex says. “This could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Please, Alex, I’m a big girl. I was CFO for a multi-billion-dollar company,” Sam says. “What do you think of all this?” 

Alex sighs and puts her heads on her hips.

“It’s not going to be pretty. Tensions have been high between our universes, as you know, and plenty of officials are going to use this as a reason to cut off contact between the two sides,” Alex says. “Coulson is trying to do some damage control as we speak, but even he only has so much sway.”

Sam takes a few steps to the side, fiddling with the chest plate of her armor before ripping it off entirely.

“You know that Lena is going to complain about having to make you a new suit,” Alex says, the slightest hint of humor to her voice.

“Lena loves making suits,” Sam says. “This one could use some more explosion resistance, anyway.”

Sam sets the piece of armor down with a heavy thud against the ground and leans against the nearby wall.

“Kara wouldn’t have let this happen,” Sam says.

“You can’t say that,” Alex says. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Sam says. “Kara has been doing this for years and has been dreaming about being the hero for even longer. Kara knows that when you’re on patrol, you have to focus on certain things and let other things go.” 

“What were you listening in on?” Alex asks.

Sam sighs and shakes her head.

“Domestic dispute. Man and a woman,” Sam says. “Could’ve escalated, but it was just likely that it wouldn’t have. It’s not even my place. But I just couldn’t let it go.”

“You have the right instincts,” Alex says. “We need people who can’t let things go.”

“But I was too slow getting to the bomb,” Sam says. “I can’t be too late getting to a bomb, not while Kara is out in Midvale and Astra is out studying the Pacific garbage patch. I’m all this city has.”

“That’s not true. The DEO is here to respond to threats,” Alex says. “And that’s not even considering the police, the guards at the beam, and the nearby military base.”

“I’m the first line of defense now,” Sam says. “It’s on my shoulders.”

“It’s not. This is a team effort,” Alex says. “We could’ve been more thorough on background checks of the beam security. We could’ve fought for more surveillance, even though the city didn’t want to. We could’ve found ways to secure the interior of the beam research facility. We could’ve put more snipers on overwatch. Or drones. But we didn’t. This is on all of us.”

Sam stares at her for a moment, a response clearly on the tip of her tongue, but she presses her lips together tightly and takes a step back.

“Fine, I see your point,” Sam says. “I just don’t like this.”

“None of us do,” Alex says. “But, that’s the job.”  

Sam nods, exhaling slowly.

“I’m going to get changed,” Sam says. “Let me know if there are any updates.”

Sam picks up the piece of armor she had ripped off and walks to the locker rooms. Alex watches her, concerned etched into the lines of her face.

“Ma’am, we got them,” Vasquez says, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Good,” Alex says. “Put them up on the screen.”

“Ma’am,” Vasquez says.

She sends the video call to the main screen in the control room. Lena shows up, alone in her penthouse, the overhead lighting making her features appear harsher and more dramatic. Finally, Kara shows up on screen, her connection from Midvale patchy.

“Alex, what’s going on?” Kara asks. “You’ve never called us on this line before.”

“There’s been an incident,” Alex says, hands on her hips. “A bomb went off at the National City beam site just a few moments ago. Sam tried to intercept but was too late. We believe that the research facility on the Nordica side has been damaged as well.”

There’s a palpable silence as the two of them take in the news.

“I can make attempts to smooth things over,” Lena says. “The board at L-Corp has recently approved a vastly increased R&D budget. I’d be more than happy to commit as much as I can to the beam.”

“That would be very useful, thank you,” Alex says. “I’m sure our friends in the government will be thrilled to hear that.”

“Exactly. Plus, keeping the researchers happy is important,” Lena says. “I’ve been working with the Nordica teams, and they’ve been saying how closely their work is being followed by politicians and other such government officials.”

“Do we know who did it?” Kara asks. “I’m more than happy to do some hunting. Plus, when I get back, I can tighten my patrol route right around the beam.”

Alex has to stop herself from smiling. Certainly nobody can accuse them of not being terrifying capable.

“All good suggestions,” Alex says. “Lena, do what you can to make sure our relationship with the research teams isn’t compromised and see what you can do about replacing that equipment. Kara, we’ll let you know if we need you. I don’t want you to cut your vacation short.”

“You know I don’t mind,” Kara says. “Besides, the longer I stay at home, the more frustrated mom gets with me. You know how much I can eat.”

Alex almost cracks a grin at that.  

“This isn’t going to play well with Nordica, no matter what we do,” Lena says, getting them back on track. “I have a good amount of sway, but much of this will simply be beyond my grasp.”

“Anything you can do to help is greatly appreciated, Lena,” Alex says. “You know I never mind you throwing your weight around in those dumb committee meetings.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Lena says. “I have to do something useful with all the good will my company has built up.”

“Hey, how is Sam doing?” Kara asks. “You said she tried to stop it?” 

“She’s doing alright,” Alex says. “Beating herself up over it, but she’s tough. I worry about how everyone else will react to this, though. You know people will jump all over her.”

“We’ll see about that,” Kara says. “Her CatCo article is also the companies most liked and shared tweet.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see if her status as beloved internet icon will shield her from the worst of it,” Alex says, more than a hint of sarcasm to her voice. “Anyway, that’s it for tonight. I’ll keep you updated as new information comes out, and if you can spare some time, I can hold an in-person meeting tomorrow after work. Except for you, Kara, you enjoy your vacation.”

“I can come back, if you need me to,” Kara says. “Oh, and mom says hi!”

Alex groans and rubs the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, tell her I say hi. Don’t worry about that yet, Kara, though we’ll keep you in the loop.” Alex says. “Everyone, dismissed.” 

The video feeds cut off until the screen is blank once again.

“Vasquez, really lean on these guys,” Alex says. “I want answers, and I want them now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vasquez says, before stalking back off to the interrogation rooms.

Alex heads to the breakroom to get a cup of coffee. She had no idea what to expect when the agents on the night shift called her in, but now she can see it’s going to be a long night. She’s going to need all the caffeine her body can handle.

* * *

“We’ve got the mayor on the line, ma’am,” a DEO agent says.

“I’ll answer in a second,” Alex says. “Is Lena joining us as well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers.

“Great,” Alex says. “Thank you.”

Alex puts her finishing touches on her written report of the situation and grabs the receiver of her secured, hard-lined phone.

“This is Alex Danvers,” she announces her arrival to the call. “Mr. Mayor. Ms. Luthor. Are we ready to begin?”

“Yet, let’s get started,” the mayor says. “I understand you have a long night ahead of you, Ms. Danvers, and I’d hate to take up too much of your time. Now, one of your agents has briefed me on the situation, but I do have some more questions.”

“Please, ask away,” Alex says.

“I’ve had one of my assistants checking social media feeds, and people are already talking about the explosion,” the mayor says. “My office needs to have at least have a written statement ready to go as soon as the morning news cycle starts, and I’d like something to put on social media right away. What do you two suggest?”

Alex takes a deep breath and folds her arms across her chest. PR isn’t exactly her strong-suit, even though as the leader of DEO, taking care of optics is one of her many responsibilities.

“If I may, I’d suggest avoid discussing specifics at first,” Lena says. “Say that there was an unspecified explosion near or around the beam site. Let the public get used to that, then have a controlled leak of the details to gauge the reaction. If people panic when ‘rumors’ come out that there was an explosion at the beam site itself, then we’ll rethink our strategy.”

“I don’t know if I like that,” Alex says. “If the public finds out we’re hiding information from then, the reaction won’t be pretty. And, if they’re already talking about it online, then it’s likely that they’re speculating that the explosion happened at the beam site already.”

“We’ve completely shut down that area over a two-block radius from the beam site,” Lena says. “I think that we could imply that the explosion came from a gas leak or whatnot.”

“The public is nervous about the beam already,” Alex says. “There are going to be conspiracy theories from the very first second you put out a press release that blames the explosion on a ‘gas leak.’”

“Then we encourage the narrative that those are only crazy conspiracy theories,” Lena says. “Most people will be reassured that the explosion didn’t come from the beam site itself.”

“I agree with Alex,” the mayor says. “The longer we try and hide this from the public, the longer that we allow them to speculate. I say we reveal that there was an explosion at the beam site, but not reveal who set it off.”

“You could say that we’re still investigating,” Alex says. “Which is technically true.”

“What’s our plan on revealing that the beam site has been the target of what is essentially a terrorist attack?” Lena asks. “That’s certainly not going to go over well.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” the mayor says. “We just need to figure out strategy for the here and now. And, besides, for that I think we’re going to need to coordinate with the military and the intelligence communities at the very least. We’ll probably need the President’s go-ahead as well.”

“Understood,” Lena says.

“Is there anything else, Mr. Mayor?” Alex asks.

“Yes, there is,” he says. “People are going to come down hard on Blackbird. Now, I’m not saying this is fair, and you know I love the Kryptonian presence in this city. But, people are going to blame her for not stopping the attack. What are we going to do about that?”

“Well, she’s tough, for one,” Alex says. “This won’t faze her. And the criticism won’t come until we decide to let the public know that it was an attack, not a random explosion. Once Supergirl returns, though, I suppose I can have Blackbird ease up on her patrol routes and have Supergirl take them over, just to put her back front and center in the public eye.”

“All good points,” the mayor says. “Yes, I suppose we can revisit this topic when it becomes more relevant. Ms. Luthor, assuming the worst, how much would it take to replace all of the equipment on both sides of the beam?”

“To my current knowledge, none of the equipment is salvageable,” Lena says. “My conservative estimate would be about fifty million. A lot of the equipment we had in there were custom from the bottom-up, calibrated specifically to the beam and the type of analysis we’re doing.”

“Well, we can find room in our budget,” the mayor says. “I’m sure that we’ll get support from President Marsden, as well.”

“The L-Corp IFESTB research fund is more than happy to help, as well,” Lena says.

“Excellent,” the mayor says. “Finally, how close are we to finding out who did this?”

“Very close,” Alex says. “We have the perpetrators in our custody. We’ll have them singing before sunrise.”

“Good,” the mayor says. “That will be all, for now. Good luck with the investigation, Director Danvers. And thank you for the input, Ms. Luthor.”

Alex hangs up the call. There’s a long road stretching ahead of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you guys think? Y'all know how much I love feedback!
> 
> And, again, please follow me on my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) and/or on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)


	3. Time Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better

Daisy and Jemma both wake up to see that Alex has texted them on a secure channel sometime while they were asleep, explaining the very basics of what happened last night to them. They go about their normal morning routine but they keep the morning news on in the background, the both of them wanting to see how the explosion will be covered. 

“Hey, they’re starting their story,” Jemma says.

Daisy rushes in from the kitchen, careful not to spill any of her coffee.

“…an explosion within the designated safe zone surrounding the Interdimensional Frequency-Equalized Space-Time Bridge, better known as the beam. A statement from the mayor’s office has suggested that the explosion came from a piece of faulty lab equipment, and that they’re doing everything in their power to ensure it won’t happen again. DEO Director Alex Danvers was contacted, to which we received a short response that we’ll play later on the show. The beam has been a source of constant speculation, and…”

“Huh,” Daisy says, between swigs of coffee. “Do you think anyone is going to buy that?”

“I’m sure most people will believe whatever story makes them feel the most safe,” Jemma says. “Not everyone is going to, though.”

“Yeah, this is the kind of thing I’d dig into in my Rising Tide days,” Daisy says. “Well, at least Sam has some time to prepare before the hammer of public opinion falls on her.”

“Well, Sam is tougher than most,” Jemma says. “Besides, I’m sure she’s heard plenty of awful things as CFO of L-Corp.”

“Still, this is the Superhero side of the press she’s dealing with now,” Daisy says. “From what I hear from Kara, that can turn in a second. One day they love you, and they next they hate you.”

* * *

“Lena, you have an IFESTB committee conference call in fifteen,” Jess says, poking her head into her office.

“Thank you,” Lena says. “I’ll take it in my office.”

“Of course,” Jess says.

Once she finishes composing an email to her new CFO, she quickly clears her desk so she can bring out all the documents she needs on the committee members and the political climate both at home and in Universe Nordica. The central cast of the committee consists of President Marsden, Secretary Ross, and all of their advisors and support team, and a rotating cast that includes the mayor of National City, Lena herself, Director Coulson and Director Danvers, and several other relevant public officials. National City is always highly represented in these meetings, since not only is the beam present in the city, but the upcoming Peace Talks will be held there as well. Likewise, SHIELD also always has a voice, since they’re the other site of the other side of the beam.  

Both President Marsden and Secretary Ross report back to their respective world’s UN assemblies, who have both been hard at work trying to figure out what to do with their now connected universes. Even reaching the point where the two worlds can conduct any sort of peace talk has been excruciating work, and that will now only get more difficult. Both worlds need to be at least mostly on the same page for any of this to work, and they’ve recently had fights over whether or not the Talks should even be conducted in National City. There’s a lot of mistrust on both sides, and everyone needs to feel safe and comfortable for anything productive to come of the Talks.

As the time for the conference call comes around, she presses a button beneath her desk that automatically darkens the windows and prevents any sound from escaping the room. She’s then connected to the conference call through her desk phone, which is hard-lined into the building’s new interdimensional communications system.

“Hello,” Lena says. “Lena Luthor, identification code LL-1320151, one-time security phrase ‘discordant harbinger.’”

There’s a long pause as the security system accepts her input. Because of the sensitivity of their discussions as well as the inherent risk of interception that comes with shooting data between two different universes, their security system has to be extremely robust and advanced. Communicating between the two universes is difficult enough already, given the ever-present interference of the variations in vibrational frequencies between them, and ensuring that nobody listens in is a constant challenge.

Finally, the connection is made and verified, and the sound of voices fills her soundproofed office. Lena leans against her desk, her face set. Game time.

“Here’s our illustrious CEO,” President Marsden says. “Thanks for joining us.”

“My pleasure,” Lena says. “May I say that it’s good to have you with us, Madam President.”

“Well, you won’t have me for very long,” Marsden says. “I can’t let this call run much past fifteen minutes, so let’s begin. With us today we have Secretary Ross, Leopold Fitz, from the research teams, and the mayor of National City. Also joining us is the director of the DEO, Alex Danvers, as well as the director of SHIELD, Phil Coulson.”

Lena grins. It’s always nice when Alex is invited to these calls, even though she does hate them. Fitz is also a welcome addition, bringing another friendly voice into the mix, though his expertise is rarely called upon as the politicians bicker.

“So, the first and only order of business is the explosion,” Marsden says. “I’ve got your report right here in front of me, but Alex, do you mind explaining to me where we’re at?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex says. “We’ve apprehended all of the men involved in the bombing on the Kryptonia beam site, and through our investigation we’ve learned that they’re an offshoot of the anti-alien reactionary group funded by Maxwell Lord.”

“This is the same group that targeted Ms. Luthor?” the mayor asks.

“I can confirm that it is,” Alex says. “The men have been tight-lipped in the explanations of their motives, mostly saying that it falls under their expanded manifesto.”

“If I may speculate, I’d say between aliens and their interdimensional counterparts, it’s all the same to them,” Lena says. “I imagine they’re as against integration with Nordica as they are against aliens.”

“I’d agree with that assessment,” Alex says. “However, we haven’t been able to get anything more out of them at this time.”

“I have a question,” Ross speaks up. “How was this attack not prevented?”

The call falls silent. Here’s the question that Lena was dreading, where Sam’s competence is no doubt going to come under fire.

“The men were well-prepared,” Alex says. “They had studied guard rotations, security systems, and even bribed one of our guards in order to gain access into the safe zone. The explosive was taken from a previously unknown cache of weaponry set up by Maxwell Lord.”

“That’s all fine and well,” Ross says. “But don’t you have three nigh-omnipotent superhumans in your city? None of them could stop it?”

“Secretary Ross, I don’t appreciate the implication that…” the mayor begins to say.

“Now, let me be clear,” Ross interrupts. “I and the other Nordica officials had okayed lighter security at your beam site because of the presence of these Kryptonians. And now your side is the first to be attacked.”

“We had agreed to lighter security because we couldn’t have military personal dug in on city streets,” the mayor says. “Our beam appeared in a hotel building, for goodness’s sake. We had to take in millions in national funding just in order to relocate residents and businesses.”

“And now, millions in lab equipment is destroyed,” Ross says. “On both sides. I’m tasked with keeping our side of the beam safe, and now our lab is destroyed.”

“$52 million, if I may be precise,” Fitz says. “Lab equipment is replaceable, Mr. Secretary. We should be happy that no lives were lost.”

Lena can absolutely see why Jemma and Daisy like Fitz so much – he’s always ready with an incisive point when it’s needed.

“I’m of course thrilled there was no loss of life,” Ross says. “I’m merely pointing out that this is a huge setback for our research.”

“Much of that money will come out of the L-Corp coffers,” Lena says. “If it’s lab equipment you’re worried about, we have that covered.”

“I’m also worried that threats from your side will spill over into ours,” Ross says. “I’m more worried about that, if I’m being honest.”

“We’re well-equipped to handle any threats,” Coulson says. “And I sincerely doubt another attack of this nature will occur. We’ll be more prepared going forward.”

“We’ve already increased security at the site,” Alex says. “And once Supergirl returns, we’ll have her tighten her patrol route around the beam site.”

There’s a moment of tense silence. Lena leans forward at her desk, wondering which way the scales will fall.

“Fine, this is all acceptable,” Ross says. “President Marsden, this doesn’t reflect well on your campaign for deep integration between our worlds.”

“The beam is a natural risk for attacks of this nature,” Marsden says. “It seems like these men would’ve found a way to push their plans forward regardless of what we did.”

“If I may add something,” Lena says. “I’m very familiar with this reactionary group. Their goal is to incite fear and division amongst us. If we want to move forward with our peace talks in earnest, we must not let them succeed. We must be stronger than their hatred.”

“Well said, Ms. Luthor,” Marsden says. “We must ensure an attack like this doesn’t happen again, but we can’t compromise the comfort and safety of the citizens of National City. And we must make it to the peace talks as a united front. And now, unfortunately, I must end the call, ladies and gentlemen. Goodbye.”

They all say their goodbyes, and the line goes silent. Lena sighs and stretches her arms above her head before turning off the security measures in her office, which lets the sunlight flood back inside. She checks the time – just a bit past one in the afternoon. Certainly nobody would blame her for taking a slightly extended break for lunch.

* * *

Lena ends up meeting with Daisy for lunch. Jemma would have joined them, but she’s busy with her team working on some epigenetic research that apparently can’t be interrupted. They go to a nearby bistro that has a very discreet staff as well as a private upstairs eating area that Lena is always granted access to.

“How is everything?” Daisy asks. “I know you don’t take indulgent lunch breaks like this unless you’re in a really good mood or you’re super stressed out.”

“More of the latter, unfortunately,” Lena says. “I just had an IFESTB committee call and Ross is still fighting against everything we do and say. He wants us to militarize our beam safe zone and is still completely opposed to our goal of deep integration.”

“Yeah, well, Ross sucks,” Daisy says. “The Sokovia Accords basically forced all Inhumans to out themselves or suffer the consequences, and since then he’s pushed for more sanctions against us. He’s the worst.”

Lena can’t help but laugh.

“I can’t disagree with your assessment,” Lena says. “He has some troubling politics, but we have to play ball with him or else we won’t get anything done with Nordica.”

“Sounds awful,” Daisy says. “How’s Kara doing?”

Lena smiles, and Daisy is very happy to have changed the topic.

“She’s doing very well,” Lena says. “After the invasion and helping to repair the city, she needed a break like this.”

“That’s so great,” Daisy says. “What an adorable nerd, hanging out with her mom in her hometown.”

Lena laughs.

“I certainly can’t disagree with that analysis,” Lena says. “I can’t wait until she comes back, though.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Daisy says. “I miss her, too. Sparring against Sam just isn’t as fun. She’s a lot meaner.”

“Yeah, Sam is tough,” Lena says. “I tried working out with her once, before her Kryptonian powers were activated, and she was scary even then. She was yelling at me to keep going as I was sweaty and red-faced and exhausted.”

“I can picture that so clearly,” Daisy says. “And speaking of, how come we never see you in the gym with us? Did Sam really scare you that badly?”

“Oh, certainly not,” Lena says. “I work out on my own. Sitting around in my office all the time has left me a little soft around the edges. I don’t want to show up to the gym in my workout clothes while you and the Kryptonians – look the way you do.”

“Hey, there’s no judgement here,” Daisy says. “I think Kara rather famously likes your curves, anyway.”

Lena blushes.

“You’re terrible,” Lena says.

“Proudly,” Daisy says, with a grin. “Ooh, our food is here.”

* * *

“Hello, darling,” Jemma says, quickly kissing Daisy. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, same ol’,” Daisy says. “Just getting paid to break into the L-Corp servers. How did that research go? Lena and I missed you at lunch.”

“I know, I wish I could’ve joined you guys,” Jemma says. “We’re working on – wait, look at this.”

There are several TV screens situated throughout the lobby of the L-Corp building, and a handful of them are playing the evening’s news report.

“Our story of the hour – a follow-up to the explosion in the beam safe zone,” the newscaster says. “We have a statement from the mayor’s office, as well as a short message from the director of the DEO. But first…”

There’s a sudden burst of static and the screen goes black.

“What the hell?” Daisy asks.  

The handful of other people in the lobby look equally confused. Someone even reaches up and smacks one of the screens, which does nothing.

Just when Daisy is about to suggest they just head out of there, the screens come back to life. They’re not playing the local news anymore. In the center of the screens is a man in a store-bought Reagan Halloween mask. With the dark background and the harsh lighting, there’s a sense of menace to the drooping, synthetic face.

“Citizens of National City, and of the world,” the man says, his voice distorted and harsh. “I represent the Last Patriots, and we are here to take responsibility for the explosion that happened last night.”

A wave of conversations rises up out of the gathered crowd. Daisy and Jemma exchange a wary glance.

“The news media, the mayor, and the director of the DEO are all lying to you,” the man says. “They want you to feel safe and in-control. But you aren’t in control anymore. We are.”

“Should we call Alex?” Daisy asks.

“She’s probably already seeing this,” Jemma says. “But I will.”

Jemma grabs her phone as the masked man continues with his manifesto.

“…we the people, of the Last Patriots, want one simple thing,” he says. “We don’t want this other universe taking advantage of our planet. Who do you think will come through that portal? People who will steal our jobs. Disrupt our thriving communities. They will live amongst us as if they are us, but they aren’t. We couldn’t stop the alien infestation in this city, but we will stop the so-called ‘deep integration’ of the two universes. The attack on the beam site was just the beginning.”

Daisy clenches her fists, involuntarily.

“We are the Last Patriots,” the man says, and the video feed cuts out.

After another burst of static, the screens cut back to the news broadcast, though the anchors look confused, scared. After a few moments of tense silence, one of the anchors shuffles the papers about the desk and clears her throat.

“A bit of technical difficulty there, folks,” she says. “We’ll get back to our story, but we have reached out to the mayor’s office, the DEO, and local law enforcement to get a comment about what just happened.”

“Have you got through to Alex?” Daisy asks.

Jemma nods, and holds up her finger. Daisy begins to pace, carefully studying the crowd around her. Everyone seems panicked, and why wouldn’t they be? They’re only a few months removed from the original attacks of the reactionary group and of an entire alien invasion, and now there are yet more threats being made against the city. Daisy feels herself growing hyper-vigilant, scanning the streets outside and the people milling about the lobby for any threats.

“I just finished talking to Alex,” Jemma says, walking up to Daisy. “The HQ is chaos right now as they try and figure everything out. She wants us to come in.”

“She wants us to come in?” Daisy asks. “Must be serious.”

“I agree,” Jemma says. “She usually doesn’t like us working with the DEO, given our official identities as normal civilians.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” Daisy says. “I wouldn’t mind seeing a little action.”

“You never do,” Jemma says.

* * *

The DEO headquarters are abuzz with activity. Alex and Vasquez alike are barking orders to various agents, who are scurrying about, trying to handle everything at once. Sam is there, too, looking like she’s about to snap some necks if they don’t figure out exactly what’s going on.

Alex spots Jemma and Daisy walk in and rushes over to them.

“There you are. I’m glad you could make it,” Alex says. “Daisy, can you find the source of the video? Don’t tell anyone, but you’re way better than any of our code jockeys.”

“Positive,” Daisy says. “And I my lips are sealed.”

“Great,” Alex says. “Jemma, can I have you contact Lena and Kara and update them on the situation?”

“You got it,” Jemma says.

Daisy runs off to one of the DEO’s high-powered computers while Jemma makes her way to the communications console.

With DEO clearance, getting access to the news station’s communications systems will be a piece of cake. One positive outcome of the alien invasion is that the DEO’s approval rating (and the rating of Alex Danvers herself) has shot through the roof, and almost everyone is more than happy to help them. In Daisy’s case, it only takes one phone call to the news station and a DEO identification code to get her unfettered access to their systems. From here on out, nothing should really challenge her.

“Hey, guys,” Jemma says. “Lena, I imagine you’ve seen the hijacked broadcast?”

“I did,” Lena says. “I was at the CatCo Media offices and it was playing on all of the screens there. Not a great look.”

“So, what’s going on?” Kara asks. “That reactionary group is back?”

“In a big way, apparently,” Jemma says. “They’re calling themselves the ‘Last Patriots now,’ and, shockingly, they oppose deep integration between the two universes.”

“Of course they do,” Kara says, an unusual edge to her voice. “That’s it. I’m coming back.”

“Kara, please, there’s no need,” Lena says. “We’re still trying to figure out who exactly these guys are and what they’re planning next. Enjoy your vacation.”

The line is silent for a moment.

“We’ll see,” Kara says.

* * *

Daisy stands up suddenly, her chair rolling away from her.

“What is it?” Sam asks, happening to be walking by at that moment.

“I got them,” Daisy says.

“You got them?” Sam echoes back.

“I got them,” Daisy says. “I have their exact location. They were broadcasting out of a warehouse in the industrial district.”

Sam grins at her.

“Let’s get this to Alex,” she says. “Then we can do some hunting.”

* * *

Daisy quickly explains the situation with the source of the broadcast to Alex. Before she can go and brief the rest of the team, however, she pulls Daisy aside into a quiet corridor.

“Hey, what’s up?” Daisy asks.

“Do you want to go into the field?” Alex asks. “We could use you, and your knowledge of the signal could come in handy.”

“You know I always want to go into the field,” Daisy says, before noticing the intense expression on Alex’s face. “Is that okay?”

“Keep this quiet,” Alex says. “We need to make sure your identity is protected.”

“I know,” Daisy says. “I don’t want to compromise my job with Lena. Besides, the warehouse we’re going to is basically in a no-man’s-land. There won’t be anyone around.”

“Look, just be careful,” Alex says. “Don’t use your powers unless you really need to, and don’t be flashy about it.”

“Me? Flashy?” Daisy asks. “Seriously, I know how to keep things quiet. I’m a former spy, remember?”

“Yes, you are,” Alex says. “But things are tense between our world and yours. So, be careful.”

Daisy raises an eyebrow at that. She had assumed Alex was only concerned with her position at L-Corp, but that’s clearly not the case. Alex, of course, also has information that she does not, given that she’s privy to all of the talks of the inner circle.

“How tense are we talking here?” Daisy asks.

“Just be careful,” Alex says, before walking away.

Daisy stands there for a moment, staring after her. After a moment, though, she just shakes her head and goes to catch up with Sam so they can conduct their mission.

* * *

“Okay, we have the information we need,” Alex says to the gathered group of DEO agents. “We need to hit these guys hard and fast. We need to stop them before they even get started.” 

Alex gestures towards the satellite map on the screen behind her.

“We have a location,” Alex says. “I’m sending in Sam and our consultant first to eliminate any threats and apprehend any members of the Last Patriots that might still be there. They’ll be supported by three fireteams, all of which will report to Vasquez. Any questions?”

The room is silent.

“Good,” Alex says. “Let’s go get these bastards.”

* * *

Sam flies in a tight circle above the warehouse, scanning the structure with her x-ray vision. Once she’s satisfied that she’s seen everything that she needs to, she soars back down to where Daisy is waiting on the street. 

“They’ve got explosives set up in every corner of the building,” Sam says. “Likely motion sensors, too. It’s a hornet’s nest.”

“I can dismantle the explosives,” Daisy says. “Anything else?”

“We’ve got what looks like a hostage in the very center of the warehouse, tied up to a chair,” Sam says. “They’ve got lead draped all over them, though, so I can’t tell who it is. I can just hear a heartbeat and see their heat signature.”

“Strange,” Daisy says. “It could be a trap.”

“Agreed,” Sam says.

“Well, no time like the present,” Daisy says. “Let’s see what surprises they have waiting for us.”

Daisy steps out in front of the warehouse, keeping a safe distance just in case she can’t successfully dismantle all of the bombs. She shuts her eyes and sends out gentle waves of vibrations out into the warehouse, sensing the exact location of the explosives. And now she can sense the subtle vibrations coming off of the explosives. With a deep breath, she tweaks her hands slightly, altering the vibrations of the molecules of the bombs and sending them scattering like dust to wind.

“Did I get them all?” Daisy asks.

Sam scans the building with her x-ray vision.

“You did,” Sam says. “Let’s go crash this party.”

Sam slices an opening through the walls of the warehouse with her laser vision and the two of them step inside. Daisy pulls her suit’s built-in mask over the lower half of her face, needing to protect her identity out in the field.

Even though there’s no immediate physical threat, the scene in front of them doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. The hostage is tied up to a rickety, folding metal chair with thick ropes. A heavy, lead-lined hood is draped over their head, making them look like an executioner of old. They have equally clunky lead-lined clothing over the rest of their body, making them seem largely formless. There’s only a single, buzzing, half-broken fluorescent light on overhead, casting a strange, unnatural light over the hostage.

Sam and Daisy exchange a glance before slowly approaching the hostage, who seems to recognize that there are people walking towards him. He begins squirming about, trying in vain to free himself from his heavy restraints. With a deep breath, Sam reaches out and slowly pulls the mask off his head.

“Mr. Mayor?” Daisy asks.

He takes a few deep, gulping breaths – between all of the lead and the heavy restraints, there’s no way he was comfortable being strapped to that chair for however long. Sweat is dripping down his face, which seems to highlight the bruise and cuts on his cheeks, as well as the blood that seems to have just dried.

“Blackbird,” he rasps. “Quake. You found me.”

“We didn’t even know you were missing,” Sam says. “We only knew that this was the place they were broadcasting from.”

Sam kneels down and begins to break his restraints. He rubs the angry, red marks on his wrists.

“They got me as I was driving home,” he says. “Must’ve been studying me for a while. They knew when and where to strike.”

Daisy helps him get to his feet, throwing an arm around him to support his weight. He leans heavily on her, though it’s hardly anything to her.

“I know you probably don’t want to think about this right now, sir, but do you remember them saying anything?” Sam asks. “Or, did they say anything to you?”

The mayor shakes his head.

“It’s alright. They didn’t say much around me,” he says. “One of them said that kidnapping me was about sending a message. And that they knew you would be able to trace the signal, which is why the set up the warehouse the way it is.”

They make their way back into the cool, night air. The city is quiet and still, as if it’s holding its breath in anticipation for what’s to come.

“Of course they did,” Daisy says. “What message did they want to send, though?”

“That could be anything,” Sam says. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?”

“I don’t know, they kept their voices down around me,” he says. “They seemed – excited, though.”

“Excited?” Daisy asks.

“Yeah, like they were buzzing with energy,” he says. “Moving with purpose. Like…”

The mayor is cut off by deafening blast, a sound so immediate and definite that they can feel it in the very depths of their lungs. So overwhelming is the sound that Daisy has a hard time finding its origin until Sam grabs her by the shoulder and points towards the city, where the sliver of a fireball can be seen, rising up into a thick column of smoke that’s barely visible against the night sky.

One of the fireteams, who had been waiting by their unmarked SUV, comes rushing over.

“Get the mayor to HQ!” Daisy shouts. “Sam and I will head to the blast.”

“Alex, we’re on it,” Sam says into her comms device. “VIP coming your way.”

Sparing no time, Sam lifts Daisy up and they soar through the air, towards the source of the explosion.

“Oh, Lena isn’t going to like this,” Sam says.

The building that the thick plumes of smoke are streaming out of is the National City Convention Center, its main entrance cratered by the blast. Car alarms are going off for blocks around it, adding to the chaos and cacophony of the scene. Not only has the National City Convention Center been the proposed site for the Peace Summit since the very beginning, but Lena dug deep into L-Corp resources to help rebuild it following the Second Daxamite Invasion, citing its prominence in the city’s culture and history. To see it ruined like this is stunning.

Sam sets Daisy down in front of the Center’s main entrance, where most of the damage has occurred.

“The mayor and the explosives – it was just a distraction,” Sam says. “This was their target all along.”

“They’re moving fast, and they’re clearly working without any fear,” Daisy says. “They must have access to more of Lord’s tech than we had thought.”

“We don’t even have a ballistics report on the first explosion,” Sam says. “Who knows what they’re using to cause so much damage.”

“No clue,” Daisy says. “Do you think anyone has been injured in the blast?”

Sam quickly sweeps the area with her X-Ray vision.

“Nobody,” Sam says. “It’s late, and this place is always quiet at night.”

“Good,” Daisy says. “Let’s see what we can find. Have Alex call it in to the fire department and the police, if they haven’t already.”

Sam steps aside to use her suit’s built-in communicator while Daisy uses her powers to dissipate the thick clouds of smoke and remaining fires from the explosion. She then pulls up her suit’s lower-face mask in order to filter out any remaining particulates, and, as always, to hide her identity. The faint sound of sirens slices through the night sky, indicating that emergency services are on their way.

“This is bad,” Sam says, continuing to use her X-ray vision to scan the building. “Knocked out the whole entrance. Structural supports are holding, but I don’t know for how long.”

Daisy continues walking forward, using gentle applications of her powers to continue dissipating the smoke.

“Any trace of the Last Patriots?” Daisy asks. “Or bomb fragments?”

“Let’s see – yeah, I think so,” Sam says.

She kneels down at what seems to be the epicenter of the devastation, just a handful of paces inside the convention center. It’s remarkable the damage that’s been caused from just a single blast point.

“Any traces of the explosives radiate from this point,” Sam says. “They must’ve set up the bomb here.”

The sirens continue to grow louder and louder until they plateau, tires screeching as emergency vehicles stop just in front of the devastated Convention Center, throwing their red and blue lights against the smoke and piles of rubble.

“Not feeling thrilled about our chances of recovering anything from this mess,” Daisy says, her hands on her hips. “Better leave this one to the experts.”

Right on cue, a floodlight illuminates them from behind, which is accompanied by the typical hiss and squeal of a police car’s PA system being activated.

“Put your hands on your head, turn around, and identify yourselves,” an authoritative voice sounds over the PA system.

Daisy stifles a laugh. Sam grins at her in return.

The two of them turn around, their hands on their head – as if that really does anything in their case.

“Codename Blackbird, with the DEO,” Sam says.

“DEO consultant,” Daisy says. “No fancy nickname. ID number MSP 092413.” 

“Understood,” the voice says. “We’re sending in the bomb disposal unit. Stay put.”

After a few moments, a group of heavily suited-up men and women slowly make their way into the scene, carrying equipment of all sorts with them. One of them – apparently the one in charge – steps in front of the two superheroes.

“Glad to see you’re on the case,” he says. “What’ve you found? I know you Kryptonians have some crazy vision powers.”

Daisy once again has to stifle laugher. She’s glad she has her suit’s mask on.

“Where I’m standing right now is where the blast originated,” Sam says. “There are fragments of the bomb strewn all across the room; I can point those out to you. There are traces of chemical residue everywhere, though I’m sure you guys can figure out what those are.”

“That’s a great start, but we’ll take it from here,” he says. “Thanks for your, uh, your service.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Sam says, amused.

* * *

Alex heads back to the command center of HQ, holding a styrofoam cup filled to the brim with the sludge-like coffee from the break room. She can already feel a headache coming on and the caffeine certainly isn’t going to help with that, but she needs all the help she can get staying up. With the attacks that have been happening recently, she’s been pulling far more all-nighters than even she’s comfortable with. 

Vasquez sees her walking back in and flags her down.

“Director, the mayor is ready to talk to you,” Vasquez says. “The medics took a look at him and he’s fine, besides a few scratches on his face and arms. I already conducted a formal interview, but he doesn’t really know much.”

“What did he say?” Alex asks.

“Pretty much what he told Sam and Daisy,” Vasquez says. “That he was attacked on the way back home and didn’t talk much around him. They took his phone and wallet, too, which I’m sure have long since been destroyed.”

“Yeah, can’t let anything be easy for us,” Alex says. “Anything else?” 

“I have some techs trying to track his phone, but I don’t really think that’s going to do much of anything,” Vasquez says. “Oh, I also let him use a secure line to contact his private security team, who’s coming to pick him up right now. You’ll have maybe ten minutes of facetime.”

“Fair enough,” Alex says, slurping down a mouthful of coffee. “Thanks for all your hard work, Vasquez. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”

“Ma’am, you know I’m here as long as you are,” Vasquez says.

“I like your attitude, but you should also know that I’ve historically been known to make poor decisions,” Alex says. “Go home, Vasquez. I need you to be sharp when I’m not.”

“Is this a direct order?” Vasquez asks.

“You know it is,” Alex says. “Good night, Susan.”

Alex waves her off with the hand that’s holding her cup of coffee and continues walking to the conference room where the mayor has been patiently waiting.

“Hello, sir,” Alex says. “How are you doing? Vasquez wasn’t too mean to you, right?”

He chuckles.

“She was lovely,” he says. “I only wish I could’ve been more helpful. I don’t think I was able to give her much useful information.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Alex says. “You were kidnapped, after all. If I know anything at all about you, it’s that you’re thinking about optics right now. Care to share your thoughts?”

He sighs, staring down at his hands for a moment.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he says.

Alex regards him curiously for a moment.

“Are you sure about this?” Alex asks.

“I’m sure,” he says. “People are already going to be panicked about the explosion. I don’t want them to hear that I was kidnapped on top of that.”

“You know that the Last Patriots are going to use that against you at some point,” Alex says. “This is a dangerous game we’re playing.”

“We just have to control the optics for now,” he says. “Look, let’s just focus on the explosion for now. And if we catch them, we won’t have to worry about my kidnapping incident.”

Alex sighs.

“Alright, I understand,” Alex says. “You know how much I hate this.”

“I know,” he says. “You won’t have to deal with any of that, though. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Whatever you say,” Alex says. “Are you sure you don’t want me to post a couple of agents around your house tonight?”

“No, I have my own security,” he says. “Besides, I need to project an image of strength in the midst of all these attacks. People will pick up on whoever you send, even if they’re trying their hardest not to be seen.”

Already in her head Alex is planning on ways to get some plainclothes DEO agents around the area of his house, as well as sending Sam on more frequent flybys over his neighborhood. There’s no way she’s letting him go completely unguarded in the upcoming days and weeks, no matter what he says.

“Of course,” Alex says. “You know your own safety better than anyone.”

“Thank you, Director Danvers,” he says. “You know, I –”

A sharp knock at the door interrupts him.

“Come in,” Alex calls out.

Vasquez pokes her head in the door.

“Your security team is here, Mr. Mayor,” Vasquez says.

“Thank you, Agent Vasquez,” he says. “Well, thank you again for getting me out of that warehouse. I don’t know where I or the entire city would be without the good work the DEO does.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll never have to find out,” Alex says.

The mayor firmly shakes her hand before walking out of the room, leaving her there alone, leaning against the conference table with her cup of coffee in her hand. She swirls the coffee around the styrofoam cup, watching it spin nearly out of control.

She heads towards their prisoner lockup next and unlocks the first cell she comes across with her security pass. The door slides open and she steps inside, separated from one of the Last Patriots by a thick, bulletproof plexiglass wall. He slowly rouses as he hears her comes in and yawns as she approaches. She presses a button on the plexiglass that activates the system that allows them to communicate.

“Director Danvers,” he says. “A pleasure.”

“That’s real cute,” Alex says. “Did you know that an attack would take place tonight?”

“They must’ve hit the Convention Center,” he says, a slight grin on his face. “That’s good. Everyone is sticking to the schedule.”

“You know about all the attacks,” Alex says.

“Probably,” he says, shrugging. “You’re not going to get it out of me.”

“I will,” Alex says. “Or Vasquez will. She might not look it, but she’s way meaner than I am.”

“None of you will,” he says. “What leverage do you have over me? You can’t kill me, so that’s out of the question. You can’t hurt me or you’ll face an investigation from your higher-ups. I’m going to prison anyway where I’ll just link up with the numerous xenophobic groups in there, so that’s hardly even a punishment. I suppose you could offer to lighten my sentence, but again, I knew the score going into this. None of us expected to escape.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re so happy to be here,” Alex says. “Because you aren’t getting out. I’ll see you around.”

Before he can respond, she turns off the sound and walks out of the room.

* * *

Lena’s new chauffer – who has been more thoroughly vetted than her last – drives her into the L-Corp building, even though operations are shut down today. With this latest attack on the city, she wouldn’t feel right spending time alone in her big, empty penthouse when she could be helping.

As the scenery of downtown National City passes her by, she watches the morning news report on her phone.

“…and it has been confirmed that the Last Patriots are taking credit for the explosion that rocked the Convention Center just last night. The Convention Center, long a centerpiece of culture, business, and politics here in National City, has suffered from serious damage, as shown in pictures that were taken soon after the attack. Local authorities as well as the FBI and DEO have promised that they are on the case, but with two attacks in just this past week, one has to wonder – just how have the Last Patriots gotten away with so much?”

Lena sighs and shuts her phone off, tossing it onto the seat adjacent to her. She rests her chin in her upturned palm and stares out the window, catching quick flashes of the ruined Convention Center through the gaps between the towering skyscrapers of downtown. It’s another beautiful, sunny day, and yet it feels as if a dark cloud hangs over the city she’s grown to love so much.

She has to make this right.

* * *

Alex stands in the DEO headquarters, with Vasquez by her side and all the agents she could muster crowding in around her. Sam is hanging around towards the back of the crowd as well, her arms folded across her chest. She’s already in her armored suit and she cuts an intimidating figure.

“So, this is bad,” Alex says. “The way I see it, we have three main goals we need to accomplish. One: we need to find where the rest of the Last Patriots are – find their base of operations, how they communicate, all of that. Two: we need to find the remaining weapon caches that Lord had set up. It’s clear that his operation possessed a scope that we were totally unaware of. And three: we need to ensure the safety of the citizens of National City. If that means I need to send field-ready DEO agents out to protect important landmarks, then I will. Any questions? Comments? Suggestions?”

“We’ve been getting nothing out of the prisoners,” Vasquez says. “It’s pretty clear that none of them are afraid of being thrown in prison. A lot of them have already spent time in lock-up.”

“The defectors from the Daxamite army told us about a lot of the cache locations, but clearly there’s more,” another agent says. “We may need to start leaning on Lord.”

“I doubt we’ll get much out of him, but we’ll try,” Alex says. “Frankly, I’m not sure how much we can trust anything that slimeball says.”

“To the last point, we may need to bring Kara back,” Sam says. “Having a little more coverage can’t hurt.”

 “I’ll give her a call,” Alex says. “I know she’s been wanting to come back anyway.”

“Once we’ve received ballistics reports, we may need to go to Lena to figure out just what kind of explosives were used,” Vasquez says. “I’m sure they were old L-Corp designs.”

“This is a mess,” Alex says. “We’re going to have to try and get on top of this as quickly as we can. I don’t know why we’re having such a hard time with them. It’s like they come and go wherever they please. They’re like ghosts.”

Alex exhales audibly, her hands on her hips.

“Get to work, everyone,” she says, sending the gathered agents into a frenzy of activity.

* * *

Across the city, Daisy wakes up to the sensation of the sunlight burning through her eyelids. She blinks uncomfortably before rubbing her eyes, trying to fight off the sleepiness that still weighs her down like a thick blanket. She reaches out to Jemma’s side of the bed to find it empty, besides crisp, crumpled sheets and a fading warmth. With a groan, she turns to her side to see the time on her bedside alarm clock – it’s ten in the morning, well past when she normally gets up.

Daisy stifles a yawn as she shuffles out into the living room and kitchen to find it empty. It takes her a moment to see that Jemma is sitting out on the deck, reading the morning newspaper beneath the shade of one of the patio umbrellas. She happily joins Jemma outside, letting the mid-morning sun fill her with warmth.

“I’ll give you five guesses as to what the cover story is,” Jemma says, not looking up from the paper.

“I’m guessing it’s not a follow-up to that ‘lioness escapes the zoo’ article from last week,” Daisy says, sitting down opposite Jemma.

“Sadly, no.”

Jemma tosses the paper onto the table in front of Daisy. The front page story is of the explosion that rocked the Convention Center, complete with a stunning nighttime picture that captures the scope of the devastation.

“The city is being terrorized and we barely have any leads to grasp at,” Daisy says. “At least the Daxamites had the audacity to park their massive spaceships right above the city.”

“We’re fighting a different enemy now,” Jemma says. “And look at this.”

She opens the paper up to an article in the opinion section titled “What is Blackbird Doing?” It’s accompanied by an unflattering picture of Sam scowling.

“Great, I’m sure that’s a balanced look at her actions,” Daisy says flatly. “She just helped save the city from an alien invasion; you think people would be a little easier on her.”

“You know that’s not how it works. We all have short memories,” Jemma says. “The article is pretty much what you’d expect. Sam isn’t working hard enough to protect the city, we’re becoming too reliant on the Kryptonians, that sort of thing.”

“Great,” Daisy says. “Glad we’re getting so much good news. Speaking of, do we have another fun, distorted statement from the Last Patriots?”

“Of course we do,” Jemma says. “They posted this one online this time.”

Jemma grabs her phone and brings the video up.

“Citizens of National City, and of the world,” the masked man says. “We have struck once again, as we said we would. As you can clearly see by now, we cannot be stopped. Not by the police, not by the DEO, and not even by the Kryptonians who hover above our city and enact justice in whatever way they see fit.”

Daisy rolls her eyes.

“Our target this time was the Convention Center, the rumored site of the upcoming peace talks,” he says. “There is no peace to be had, not when there’s a portal in the middle of our city that job-stealers and criminals threaten to pour through. Since our elected officials, our so-called ‘public servants,’ refuse to listen to the demands of the people, we must take matters into our own hands. We must fight back. We must make our voices heard.”

“Yes, those sad, oppressed reactionary extremist terrorists,” Daisy says sardonically. “Really feel for them.”

“There will be no peace as long as elected officials push us towards ruination with their foolish dream of ‘deep integration,’” the man continues. “We are the Last Patriots.”

The video ends there, on an unsettling still-frame of the harshly-lit Reagan Halloween mask.

“I hate these guys,” Daisy says. “We haven’t been able to find anything out about them, and we have a handful of them in custody already.”

“They seem to have no goals beyond spreading chaos and scaring people off the beam and the other universe,” Jemma says. “It’s hard to get a handle on them.”

“I know,” Daisy says. “Their ideology is straightforward, but nothing else about them is.”

“It’s interesting that they haven’t mentioned their kidnapping of the mayor,” Jemma says. “You’d think that would be the first thing they brag about.”

“They must have plans with that,” Daisy says. “Or they didn’t expect us to get him out of there so easily. Whatever it is, they’re keeping it in their back pocket for now. I’m just happy we don’t have to deal with them bragging about it in their videos.”

“Agreed,” Jemma says. “They might just be reacting to whatever we do. Since you freed the mayor before anyone reported he was gone, they decided to brag about their attack on the convention center instead. If you had stopped the convention center explosion but hadn’t saved the mayor, I’m sure they’d be focusing just on that.”

Daisy sighs and leans back dramatically in her chair, draping her arm across her eyes.

 “I don’t want to think about them for about an hour,” she says. “After that, we can start hunting them down.”

“I can work with that,” Jemma says, putting the paper down. “What did you have in mind?”

Daisy grins.

“Oh, I have a few ideas.”

* * *

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and they find themselves back to work. In the back of her mind Daisy wonders if they should just embrace this day off, but with what’s happening to the city, she knows she would never be comfortable with that.

Daisy leans back in her chair and stretches her arms above her head, hearing a few more joints pop than she had been expecting. They’ve been out on the deck for long enough for Daisy to watch the perspiration build up and drip down the sides of her glass of water and for the sun to reach its zenith and slowly dip back down again.

“How are you doing?” Daisy asks.

“Getting frustrated,” Jemma says. “I’ve been reviewing the video footage of all of the prisoner interviews, but I haven’t learned anything new. The men who attacked the beam were well-chosen; they’re completely single-minded in their devotion to their cause and they refuse to give even a single inch.”

“Well, I’m not doing much better,” Daisy says. “We’ve got the ballistics reports in, but evidence they found could really match up with about a dozen old L-Corp explosives designs. Also, when I asked for access to the L-Corp servers Lena yelled at me about working on my day off. She was in her office!”

Jemma chuckles.

“That sounds exactly like Lena,” Jemma says. “I was wondering who you were on the phone with.”

“Yeah, Ms. CEO is going to try and pay for the Convention Center renovations,” Daisy says. “She’s working on the proposal in her office.”

“Makes sense,” Jemma says. “She just about owns all the other buildings in downtown National City.”

“Yeah, she has too much money,” Daisy says.

As she lets herself get distracted from her work, she starts to scroll through one of her social media feeds on her phone.

“Wait, hold on,” Daisy says.

“What is it?” Jemma asks.

“Look at this,” Daisy says, holding her phone out for Jemma to see.

“The National City March for Solidarity,” Jemma reads off the screen. “In a repudiation of the ideology and violence of the Last Patriots, we ask the people of National City to join together at City Hall and march down to the Convention Center. In this time of uncertainty and fear, we must join together to show our support for our Alien brothers and sisters as well as those we haven’t met in our parallel universe.”

Jemma hands the phone back to her.

“It’s this Saturday,” she says. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, we are now productive members of society, here in National City,” Daisy says. “I say we go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks so much for reading! As always, please leave kudos and comments, I love getting feedback!
> 
> And, again, please follow me on my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) and/or on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)


	4. Long March Rocket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late! My weekend was crazy, I spend a lot of it celebrating my lovely gf's bday! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one, things continue spiraling downwards

“Ms. Luthor, we can’t approve this.”

Lena presses her lips into a tight line, trying to avoid sighing audibly in front of the board of directors. She picks up the manila folder containing her proposal for funding the rebuild of the Convention Center and drops it back down onto the conference room table for emphasis.

“I’m failing to see why we can’t,” Lena says. “Even with the money we’ve pumped into the city to help reconstruct the infrastructure, our profits hardly dropped in the last quarter, and they’re looking up in this one.”

“We can’t keep giving away money and getting nothing in return,” another board member says. “Especially since we couldn’t secure any exclusive rights to the technology derived from the beam.”

“That beam is the biggest scientific discovery in the past decade. Perhaps even in the past century,” Lena says. “And you want to use it to, what, increase profit margins by a fraction of a percentage point? We don’t even have the final cost estimates of reconstruction yet. We’re just pledging to pay for half. The city is paying for the rest!”

“Your idea, then, is to promise money in an amount we don’t even know yet?” a board member asks. “Why don’t we just give a blank check to the government and be done with it?”

“We have preliminary estimates on the cost, which is in my proposal,” Lena says. “We’ve had our fair share of attacks on the city, so the process for estimating damage costs has become quite effective and streamlined. That’s not what’s at stake here. My idea is to get our name out there so people associate us with the rebuilding process from the get-go. I want to show that L-Corp is dedicated to National City, in a time where most companies are cutting costs and moving overseas!”

“I don’t know about this,” the board member says plainly.

“You’re the CEO,” another of them says. “You should be out there making sound business decisions.”

“Which is exactly what I’m doing,” Lena says. “The L-Corp name is going to be stamped on every building National City at the rate we’re going. Our popularity ratings amongst both individual and business-level consumers are through the roof. A poll just came out rating us the most beloved and trusted business in California. Furthermore, the Convention Center hosts everything from political gatherings to comic book conventions, and we could have our name hanging above the entrance. How is this not a good business decision?”

“Yes, yes, I read the proposal,” another says. “This bubble of popularity won’t last forever, and we won’t be able to hold on to our success if we keep giving money away.”

Lena clenches her fists, though she keeps them below the level of the table so they won’t be able to see how angry she’s getting. She gets one day off, which she works through anyway for this very proposal, and she comes back to this reception. Unbelievable.

“We’re starting to talk in circles,” a board member speaks up – the only woman member. “Lena is saying that the rewards for our actions won’t make themselves immediately available. There’s no direct cash return on public goodwill.”

“Yes, but look at everything we’ve been doing,” one says. “A fund for the scientific research of the beam. Another for the city’s infrastructure. Yet another for security upgrades to the L-Corp tower over two years. We’re comparing our profits in this quarter to those when we just moved to National City, when we were hemorrhaging money.”

“We were losing money because we were one of the most reviled corporations in the entire world,” Lena says. “I’ve turned us around. I proposed pursuing more humanitarian science research. I modernized our business. I helped us integrate with the culture of National City. I even endeared us to the press after the stunningly public downfall of our previous CEO. Do you really think I would start making poor decisions now?”

Lena finds that she is standing up, staring the board of directors down. They stare back at her, their faces impassive and unreadable. There’s a long moment of silence.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” the chairman of the board says.

* * *

“Ms. Luthor, is everything…” Jess begins to say, but Lena storms past her and slams the door to her office without a word. “Okay. I’ll take that as a no.”

Lena activates the security features of her office and grabs her personal cellphone to call her attorney.

“Hey, I’m going to need you to move some assets around,” Lena says. “Yes, this is more money for the city. It’s about the most recent attack.”

Lena paces her office.

“No, I don’t care about the long-term health – look, just have the money available to move when it’s needed,” Lena says. “I’m very serious.”

She heads over to her drinks table and begins pouring herself a glass of sparkling water.

“Yes, as soon as possible,” Lena says. “Okay, thank you.”

She hangs up, grabs her drink, and goes to sit on her couch. The tension continues to cling on, refusing to completely drain out of her body. She takes a big swig of her sparkling water, wishing that it was bourbon or gin or any sort of strong drink as soon as it hits her tongue.

Just when she thinks she might actually go home early to enjoy an actual alcoholic beverage, she hears a knock. It’s not at her door; the knock seems to be coming from the window that leads out to the balcony. She furrows her brow, standing up slowly. There are only three people she knows who would show up at her balcony – four if you count Superman, but he would never visit her unannounced – but there’s only one she really wants to see right now.

She makes her way over to the balcony door and, her heart pounding, slowly opens it to see Kara’s smiling face on the other side.

A certain sense of warmth suffuses her from head to toe, a warmth that certainly can’t be explained from just stepping out into the sun from her cool office. She knows it’s been said many times before, by many different people, but Kara shines as bright as the sun, and after such a long absence she seems, to Lena, to shine even brighter.

“Kara,” Lena says, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“Lena, it’s so good to see you!” Kara says.

Kara, true to her nature, envelops Lena in a tight hug, to which Lena eagerly reciprocates. Between their frequent texting and regular video chats, Lena has missed physical touch the most acutely, and to once again experience it is the greatest relief.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon,” Lena says.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Kara says, her warm breath tickling Lena’s ear. “Once I heard about the attack on the Convention Center, I hopped on the first flight that I could find.”

“I’m so happy you’re back,” Lena says. “Let’s get you inside and you can tell me all about Midvale.”

Lena deactivates the security measures in her office to let the sunlight in, and the two of them go and sit on the couch – a very familiar place for the two of them.

“Before I tell you about that, I have to ask – is everything okay here?” Kara asks. “Are you okay? There have been two attacks on the city now from the same group that went after you.”

Lena sighs.

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena says. “Honestly. I’m just furious that this city is once again under attack. The people of this city, the people who don’t exist in the circles that you and I do, have no idea what’s going on and I’m sure they must be scared and frustrated.”

“I can’t believe I was away for all of this,” Kara says. “I should’ve been here. Maybe I could’ve stopped all of this.”

“Kara, please don’t think that way,” Lena says. “You’ve been working so hard, repelling the Daxamite invasion and rebuilding the city and everything else that you do. You needed the vacation. And I’m sure your mom was happy to see you.”

“Yeah, she was,” Kara says, looking down at her hands. “Do you think that’s why they chose now to attack? Because I was away?”

“We just don’t know,” Lena says. “The interviews with the Last Patriots we have in our custody haven’t been very productive. We’re going off of speculation right now.”

“I should have been here,” Kara says again. “Maybe this all could’ve been avoided. They’ve attacked the beam and the Convention Center. This is serious!”

“Kara, we’ve had Sam and Daisy here this entire time, and even they couldn’t stop the attacks,” Lena says. “Do you want to call into question the good work they do? Not everything is on you. That’s true now more than ever.”

Kara sighs and slumps down on the sofa.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she says.

“Look, how about this,” Lena says. “Let me take off work. Right now. Let’s go to your favorite Chinese restaurant and take our minds off everything.”

That certainly gets Kara to sit up a little straighter.

“You want to leave work early?” she asks. “Aren’t you busy?”

“I am, but you know what? I had one big thing I wanted to accomplish today and it got shot down,” Lena says. “So, screw it. I worked the entire day yesterday even if I made literally everyone else stay home. I’m going to leave work a few hours early today.”

“Well, I can’t say that I don’t like this side of you,” Kara says. “Also, what thing of yours got shot down?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Lena says. “At our early dinner. C’mon.”

Kara looks at her incredulously for a moment, before a big smile grows on her face.

“You’ve won me over,” Kara says. “Let’s go.”

The two of them walk out of the office, leaving an incredulous Jess raising an eyebrow in their wake.

“Redirect all important calls to my personal number, Jess,” Lena says over her shoulder. “And screen the rest. I’m officially out of the office.”

* * *

Meanwhile, lower in the L-Corp building, Daisy is still at her desk, not having the luxury of leaving at a moment’s notice. She leans forward, trying to focus on the lines of code displayed on her monitor as she feels her eyes begin to glaze over and her mind becoming fuzzy.

“Hey, you okay?” her coworker asks.

“Sorry, just a little out of it,” Daisy says. “I’ve been staring at this screen for too long.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” he says. “I think everyone’s a little out of it after these attacks.”

He turns to look around the office; nearly half of the desks are empty, and the general background din of conversations and people moving about is perceptibly absent. Even though, so far, both attacks have occurred at unoccupied buildings, there’s a cloud of fear permeating the city and people are understandably reluctant to make the commute into work.

“It’s been so crazy,” Daisy says. “Two attacks and they haven’t even found anyone.”

She’s fishing for information, she knows it, but her coworkers are often the best resource of how “ordinary” citizens are reacting to these events. All of her friends have access into the innermost circles of business and government, and as such are privy to knowledge that very few others are.

“Well, these things take time,” he says. “We’re lucky, too. Nobody has been hurt in these attacks so far. At least we’re not getting invaded by an alien army.”

Daisy chuckles. That’s one way to put it in perspective.

“That’s true,” Daisy says. “I’d be happy if I never had to hear about the Daxamites again.”

“I’m with you on that one,” he says. “Hey, you just moved here a few months ago, right? You chose a hell of a time.”

“I know, but I just couldn’t say no to the package they offered me,” Daisy says. “Besides, the rent here is marginally cheaper here than in LA.”

He laughs.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he says. “All the attacks are good at keeping the property costs low, that’s for sure.”

“Sad, but true,” Daisy says. “Hey, are you going to that solidarity march thing this weekend?”

“Kind of crazy, right?” he asks. “Two explosions downtown and people want to march. I guess I’m crazy too, since I’m going. You?”

“Yeah, I probably will,” Daisy says. “It seems important to show that we’re unafraid.”

“Exactly,” he says. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Maybe you will,” Daisy says.

* * *

“Good lunch break, ma’am?” Vasquez asks as Alex walks back into the command center.

“Leftovers that Kara dropped off,” Alex says. “That girl loves her Chinese food.”

“That she does,” Vasquez says. “Oh, and happy Friday.”

“Yeah, like we’re not going to work through the weekend,” Alex says. “What do you have for me?”

“Not much,” Vasquez says. “We have a likely target for the next attack.”

“The solidarity march, right?” Alex asks. “I had been thinking about that.”

“I’ve been in contact with local police, trying to get them to up their presence at the event,” Vasquez says. “Even then, it’s a lot of ground to cover. We’ll need both Sam and Kara on watch.”

“Agreed,” Alex says. “I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help out. Anything else?”

Vasquez opens her mouth to speak but closes it again, pressing it into a tight line as thoughts clearly percolate in her mind.

“Just a thought, ma’am,” Vasquez says. “Does it feel strange to you how well-trained the reactionaries are now compared to just a few months ago?”

“Elaborate,” Alex says, though she’s had similar thoughts herself.

“Well, the last time their attacks were out in the open and sloppy. Ill-planned,” Vasquez says. “The men broke easily under questioning. Their motivation seemed to largely be a misplaced anger towards Lena because of her open support of the alien population and her relative visibility in the public eye.”

“But now their attacks are coordinated and surgical,” Alex says. “Everyone seems well-trained. We haven’t been able to crack any of them yet, and we’re completely in the dark regarding their plans.”

“Exactly,” Vasquez says. “It’s clear that they’re under new management, but we may need to take a new angle here. Instead of going from the bottom up, we go from the top down. Head of the snake, and all that.”

“How would we do that, when we know so little?” Alex asks.

“We need to do what we did last time,” Vasquez says. “Rather than ask who has the funding for all this, though, we ask who could be providing them with training and intel. Who could be behind all of this? Who would have motivations that line up with the Last Patriots’ manifesto?”

Alex stands there for a moment, deep in thought.

“I like that,” she says. “Get a team together and start working that angle. I’ll assign a new agent to keep leaning against our guests.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vasquez says.

* * *

“Hello,” Lena says. “Lena Luthor, identification code LL-1320151, one-time security phrase ‘apathetic peacekeeper.’”

The system approves her voice code and patches her into the trans-universal conference call. This time, though, it seems as if the discussion is already underway, even with as early as she is.

“We have it handled,” Alex says. “If Sam and our other DEO consultant couldn’t stop the attacks, do you really think that sending Iron Man over will help?”

“It seems to me that you do need help, director,” Ross says. “Two attacks in your city and you seem no closer to finding the perpetrators today as you did when we last spoke. And all of you are surprised when I say that I don’t want to integrate our two worlds. We have enough problems as it is.”

“Our city was just attacked,” Lena says, before properly introducing herself. “Don’t turn this into an opportunity to inject your politics into the discussion.”

“This is a political committee,” Ross says. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“Well, I’m not a politician,” Lena says. “I apologize for not thinking like you do.”

“No, of course not,” Ross says. “You’re merely the world’s youngest billionaire on your planet. I assume you’re going to be paying for damages this time, too?”

“Of course I am,” Lena says. “It’s the least I can do for this city I love so much.”

“The costs are piling up for you,” Ross says. “I’m surprised you’re still so eager to see your world opened up to ours.”

“I’ve made my stance quite clear,” Lena says. “Besides, my politics aren’t the reason for this call.”

“No, as much as I appreciate your political acumen, they’re not,” President Marsden says. “Obviously, we can’t have peace talks in National City if it’s under attack from rogue actors. We’re here to discuss whether or not we need to increase security infrastructure in the city or if we need to move the event entirely.”

“As I’ve said, attacks are going to happen regardless of where we have the event,” Alex says. “National City has a lot of reactionary elements because we’re one of the most integrated cities, but it’s also a lot more liberal and accepting than most places we could reasonably hold this event.”

“And before anyone else says anything, we do need this event to be public-facing,” the mayor says. “The public needs to see that we’re discussing this issue openly and plainly, not going into a locked room away from prying eyes.”

“I suppose you’re all in agreement that the symbolic nature of holding the peace talks in National City is still important”” Ross says.

“Now more than ever,” Alex says. “If we back down now, we appear weak. We can’t let that happen.”

“With domestic terrorists loose in your city, you may not want to be so preoccupied with appearances, director,” Ross says.

“I have a lot on my plate, Mr. Secretary,” Alex says. “I don’t appreciate you wasting everyone’s time by taking shots at me.”

“Everyone,” Marsden says. “Let’s focus, please. What’s our strategy going forward for the peace talks? I’m open to suggestions here, people.”

“I say we ignore symbolism and hold the talks in a secure location in our world,” Ross says. “Perhaps even at the Avengers Facility, for the added security. I have much more faith in our security systems than in your own.”

“If I recall, the UN discussions over the Sokovia Accords were the target of a bombing,” Alex says. “Stones and glass houses, Mr. Secretary.”

“The difference being that we don’t have homegrown terrorists broadcasting their anti-integration manifestos during the evening news,” Ross says. “Forgive me for thinking that it might be a little safer on our side.”

“Call me a pessimist, but it’s only a matter of time until the Watch Dogs or an equivalent organization starts causing some trouble,” Coulson says. “Plus, you should see what some people are saying on Twitter.”

“I say we continue on course,” Lena says. “Hold the event in the Convention Center. I’ve already made plans to rebuild, and my company is one of the market leaders in modern security systems. We could outfit the entire structure with sentry drones, sensors that measure motion, gait, heat, and so on, automated non-lethal sentry guns, all controlled by a smart AI system.”

“How much will this cost?” Ross asks.

“I’m surprised by your continued insistence on putting a price tag on the security of what may prove to be the most monumental event of this century,” Lena says. “I’m saying that my company can make this happen. We can worry about the money when the dust has settled.”

“Also, I say we call in everyone the day of the event,” Alex says. “We have at least three Kryptonians at our disposal, and maybe even a fourth. And, if some of the ‘Avengers’ want to make the trip, then I welcome them.”

“We have to be smart about this,” Ross says. “Several members of the Avengers are also sanctioned agents of the UN. If crisis strikes at home, we’ll need them here to assist us.”

“Fine, I was being hyperbolic,” Alex says. “We don’t need literally everyone.”

“Look, we can coordinated who goes where next. Otherwise, this sounds acceptable to me,” Marsden says. “Lena, I’ll be sure to coordinate with your people so we can get funding for the Convention Center and any security measures that we see fit.”

“It seems as if you’re all comfortable inviting in trouble,” Ross says.

“That’s what we do best in National City,” Alex says.

* * *

“Alex,” Daisy says. “You almost never call. What’s going on?”

“You and Jemma are attending the Solidarity March, right?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, we are,” Daisy says. “What, did you want to join us? We’ll make a sign for you.”

“Always the comedian,” Alex says. “No, I’m working. I just wanted to remind you that you’re there as a citizen of National City and not as a DEO consultant.”

“That’s a little vague,” Daisy says. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“If the Last Patriots do target this event, which I’m sure they will, then just leave it to us,” Alex says. “Do not engage.”

“Alex, c’mon, you know me,” Daisy says. “I see trouble; you know I’m going to run right for it.”

“Yes, you’re very cool and tough,” Alex says, and Daisy swears she can hear her rolling her eyes. “Look, we’ll have both Kara and Sam there, along with a contingent of plain-clothes DEO agents. We have this covered.”

“I can’t just…”

“Daisy, just tell me you won’t do anything crazy,” Alex says. “Ease my mind a little bit, please?”

Daisy sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

“Fine, I promise,” Daisy says. “Happy?”

“When am I not?” Alex asks. “Have fun at the march, Daisy. Say hi to Jemma for me.”

She hangs up, leaving Daisy standing there, deep in thought.

“Who was that?” Jemma asks, poking her head into the room.

“Alex. She was just checking in,” Daisy says. “Cute hat.”

“Thank you,” Jemma says. “It’s my favorite memento from the soccer game that Alex and Kara took us too. Besides that bruise I got on my arm, of course.”

“Oh yeah, those Star City fans were real wild,” Daisy says. “I don’t know why, since soccer is such a boring sport.”

“Don’t you start on that again,” Jemma says. “I want to make it to this march in once piece.”

“Fair enough,” Daisy says. “How do I look?”

Jemma lets her eyes scan up and down Daisy’s body. She’s wearing a National City Comic Con shirt she stole from Kara along with a pair of cut-off denim shorts.

“Well, you certainly look the part of a local protestor,” Jemma says. “Are you sure you want to wear shorts? That’s not a lot of protection if the Last Patriots show up looking for a fight.”

“Yeah, but I have magical Inhuman durability,” Daisy says. “I’ll be fine. We’ll also have two Kryptonians patrolling the skies along with a huge contingent of DEO agents and police officers.”

“Let’s see how well the police officers play with the protestors, for one,” Jemma says. “But I agree, if the Last Patriots do try anything, it should prove to be rather foolish.”

“And I’m ready to throw some hands regardless,” Daisy says. “For the most part, though, I’m just happy to be out there marching with some pissed-off people. It’s been too long. Feels like my Rising Tide days.”

“This is definitely a good outlet for your revolutionary spirit,” Jemma says, smiling. “Shall we?”

“Let’s do it,” Daisy says.

The two of them decide to walk to the starting point of the march, since it’s not terribly far away and because it’s a beautiful, sunny day. The air seems to be buzzing with energy, and the closer they get to the starting point the louder the sounds of overlapping conversations and shouted chants become until they reach the throngs of people and the cacophony becomes almost overwhelming. Daisy grins.

The street in front of City Hall, where the march is to begin, is completely filled with people, all standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Not only that, but the crowd is still growing, too, as people dutifully stream in from all angles to support their city. Signs covered with catchy slogans and flags of all kinds rise above the sea of heads. Neither the heat of the mid-morning sun nor the general atmosphere of uneasiness and fear seemed to have held anyone back from attending.

“Better turnout than I expected,” Daisy says.

“Certainly,” Jemma says. “There must be, what, 5,000 people here? Maybe more?”

“At least,” Daisy says. “We’re here early, too. Imagine how many more will join us on the way.”

“If something happens today,” Jemma says. “A lot of people could get hurt. Or worse.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Daisy says. “Besides, look.”

She points up at the sky. Jemma squints her eyes, seeing nothing beyond the expanse of the sky and the glint of the sun. But, after a moment, her eyes spot a streak of red and blue and a streak of black against the backdrop of blue sky.

“I’m glad they got here early,” Jemma says.

“You know Sam is on top of things, especially given what everyone’s been saying about her,” Daisy says. “And I’m sure that Kara really wanted to get back into the action.”

“True enough,” Jemma says.

They’re interrupted by the whine of a PA system, and they turn to see that the original group of activists who put the march together have appeared on the landing of the steps that lead up to City Hall, flanked by the mayor, the governor, a group of senators and representatives, along with Lena herself. Daisy manages to catch her eye, and she winks back at her.

“Good morning, National City,” one of the activists begins to speak. “We are here today to show that we are not afraid.”

The crowd immediately begins to cheer, and Daisy can’t help but join in.

“We won’t be held hostage in our own city by a group of reactionaries,” she continues. “We will not bow to their demands. We will not accept a single inch of their ideology!”

More cheers break out.

“National City has always been a safe haven for immigrants, of people seeking a better life,” she says. “Whether they come from other countries or other planets, we, the people, have always made sure to welcome them with open arms. We will not change our behavior of acceptance and tolerance just because these reactionaries think they can bomb it out of us!”

The crowd roars once again. Daisy can feel the energy building up amongst the thousands and thousands of people who have come together to fight for a similar cause.

“This is our time,” she says. “We will show the world – both worlds – what we believe in. What we stand for! We are here not only to repudiate the actions of the Last Patriots, but to show our support to open up our city to the people of Universe Nordica! We are stronger when we stand together, we are better when we stand together!”

This gets the biggest response from the crowd by far, and they barely settle down even when the microphone is passed to the mayor and he gives a similar, though less fiery, speech about essentially the same points. The governor also gives a quick speech thanking everyone for showing such bravery in the face of violence. Finally, though, the microphone is handed to Lena, who takes a few tentative steps forward, the dramatic features of her face lit up by the sun. The crowd has settled by this point, and the speakers whine with feedback over relative silence.

“Hello, people of National City,” Lena says. “I would like to take this time to announce that I will be donating to the city so that the Convention Center can be rebuilt quickly in order to serve as the site of the upcoming inter-universal peace talks.”

There’s a loose smattering of applause, and Lena clears her throat.

“I know I’ve been somewhat controversial figure in National City since I’ve arrived here,” she says.

Someone in the crowd shouts, “we love you, Lena,” which causes a quick grin to flit across her face.

“In light of that, I would like to discuss – no, I would like to firmly declare and reiterate my political beliefs,” Lena says. “Here in National City, we support our alien brothers and sisters. And so do I.”

A round of applause sounds from the crowd.

“I have been targeted by these reactionaries before,” Lena says. “And let me say this unequivocally – they are cowards. They thought that by threatening my life, they could silence me from speaking out. They were wrong. And they’re wrong about all of you, too. They’re wrong about National City. How many times have we been attacked, besieged, invaded? And what have we done every single time?”

She lets that question hang over the crowd for a moment. 

“We fight back,” she says. “We always fight back. That’s what all of you are doing out here today. I know that my position as CEO at L-Corp gives me a certain privilege that makes me a stranger to most, but today I join all of you in saying that we will not be bullied into silence. Thank you all for letting me join you.”

To cheers from the crowd, she steps back into the shade and hands the microphone off to one of the activists and organizers.

“Okay, we will be starting our march in a few seconds,” she says. “Just remember to stay safe and look out for one another out there. Follow the route that’s been blocked off for us. There will be more speakers as well as a quick vigil at the Convention Center. Again, thank you all for coming.”

The crowd roars once again.

“Here we go,” Jemma says. “Let’s see if the Last Patriots will do anything.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Daisy says.

The great mass of marchers begins to move – slowly at first, though it grows in momentum as they go along. Chants break out spontaneously amongst different groups in the crowd, sometimes overlapping in gloriously confusing fashion. Daisy revels in the organized chaos of it all, reminded instantly of her years working with the Rising Tide.

“Look,” Jemma says, grabbing Daisy’s arm. “They certainly aren’t taking any chances where security is concerned.”

Daisy looks up to where Jemma is pointing and sees that there are policemen and DEO agents alike patrolling the tops of the shorter buildings in the area. There are certainly snipers hidden behind certain windows as well. Kara and Sam are also still soaring above the marchers.

“No, they definitely aren’t,” Daisy says, though seeing all of those police officers only serves to make her more wary.

The chanting and, on occasion, singing of the crowd grows louder and louder, and Daisy tries not to get too swept away by all of that energy. Her training has always been hard to override, and she finds herself scanning the people around her as well as the rooftops above her.

“I’m sorry, did I get in your head?” Jemma asks.

“No, SHIELD did,” Daisy says. “It’s hard to turn some of these instincts off.”

“Well, if they do attack, they’ll be met with plenty of resistance,” Jemma says.

“And the entire route was swept for explosives a hundred times over,” Daisy says. “I’d be more surprised if something does happen. We should just enjoy being here. This is a huge moment in history.”

“A popular march to unite two universes,” Jemma says. “We likely won’t get the opportunity to do this again.”

“I can hardly wrap my mind around it,” Daisy says.

They continue on their way, trying not to let the ongoing DEO investigation of the Last Patriots weigh on their mind too heavily. The crowd seems completely fearless, with several spontaneous chants rising up denigrating the Last Patriots’ methods and the melted appearance of the Reagan Halloween mask worn in their videos. It makes Daisy smile, though she doesn’t join in.

Daisy continues to scan the rooftops, though, being unable to completely turn off her instincts. That pays off, however – she noticed that some of the police officers are brandishing what appear to be elongated flare guns rather than the usual arms carried by the uniformed officers. There doesn’t seem to be any particular pattern to who’s carrying what, though more of them seem to be showing up the further into the route they walk.

“Is everything alright?” Jemma asks, noticing the change in Daisy’s demeanor.

“Yeah, all good,” Daisy says as she pulls out her phone. “Just going to text Alex, let her know what she’s missing.”

Daisy quickly composes a message to Alex and sends it off. Jemma’s phone buzzes at the same time, having received it as well. She pulls her phone out to read it.

_Uniformed officers compromised? Check weaponry. Kryptonian flyby requested._

Moments later, Daisy’s phone buzzes with a response.

 _On it_.

Right on cue, both Sam and Kara soar closer to the protestors, who whoop and cheer as they see them approach. As soon as they get in range of the buildings, though, the police officers brandishing the strange guns lift them up into the air and fire.

Cheers turn into screams as the projectiles soar through the air in a lazy arc. Instead of plummeting down onto the marchers below, however, they burst in mid-air, sending out a thin sizzle of smoke and an eerie, deep red glow. The crowd falls silent for a moment as they try to decipher what’s happening, but chatter rises up from every angle as Sam and Kara alike both falter and begin plummeting towards the ground. People rush out of the way to avoid being hit by them.

A crescendo of screams rise from the front of the crowd. Daisy and Jemma share a look.

“I’ll check on the Kryptonians and call Alex,” Jemma says. “You see what’s going on.”

“On it,” Daisy says.

Daisy shoves her way to the edges of the marchers, towards the sidewalks, where the people aren’t packed quite so tightly. She uses her superior speed and strength to muscle her way to the front of the crowd. It’s as if she’s a salmon going upstream – the entire crowd seems to want to go in the exact opposite direction that she is.

Once she gets close to the front, she understands why. There’s a group of Last Patriots, maybe fifty of them, standing in front of the marchers. They’re dressed like they’re going off to war, with flak jackets, ballistic helmets, and assault rifles alike, along with balaclavas covering their faces. Some marchers in the front stand defiantly in front of them, while others try to push their way back to little avail.

One of the Last Patriots, apparently the leader of this particular squad, steps out in front of the others and pulls a megaphone from behind his back.

“People of National City,” he says. “You will accomplish nothing with this march. This is just for those too weak-willed to take any real action. Your symbolic gestures are meaningless.”

As he continues to espouse his manifesto, Daisy subtly reaches out with her powers to sense the assault rifles that they’re carrying. She keeps her hands low, wanting to avoid revealing what she’s doing, but the exertion from such a sensitive task shows on her face. She exhales a shaky breath and closes her eyes, now managing to feel every single assault rifle that they’re carrying. With a quick swipe of her hands, she uses her powers to dissolve the rifles into relative nothingness. The men begin to panic as they look down at their now empty hands, while the one speaking becomes distracted by the commotion, a whine screeching out from his megaphone. The crowd is thrown into further chaos.

Daisy scans the crowd around her until she spots someone with a rainbow-print bandana wrapped around their hair – she needs something to obscure her identity if she’s going to throw herself into combat.

“Sorry, ma’am, I’m going to borrow this,” Daisy says.

Before the woman can even react, Daisy pulls the bandana out of her hair and ties it around the lower half of her face, leaving only her eyes visible. As the Last Patriots continue to regroup themselves, Daisy sprints out from the crowd, leaps into the air, and lands a punch on the one still fumbling with the megaphone. He crumples to the ground.

Not wanting to give up her surprise advantage, she charges another Patriot and tackles him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. She then kicks out the leg out from another, sending him to one knee, and she grabs his shoulders and springs upwards, her knee making solid contact with his chin and knocking him out cold.

One of them tries to punch her, which she easily avoids and grabs his outstretched arm, tossing him over his hip onto the ground. She front kicks another of them, who flies back and knocks down two of his compatriots. Finally, though, the Patriots manage to reorganize themselves and also begin to recognize the threat that she poses, so they rush her four at a time – two from the front and back, and two from the sides. Daisy stays light on her feet and keeps her head moving, wanting to avoid getting caught by surprise.

The one rushing her from behind kicks at her, which she narrowly dodges and, in the same motion, smoothly hooks his heel with her hand and flips him onto his back. She dodges beneath a wild haymaker from one of them who rushed her from the side and answers with a shot to his kidney followed up by a devastating uppercut that nearly lifts him off his feet. The sound of footfalls lets her estimate where another of the Patriots is, and she blindly kicks to her side – she catches him right in the chest, and he collapses onto the asphalt.

Daisy takes another inventory of the fight and realizes that she’s once again been surrounded in a loose circle by the Last Patriots, and that one of them is now approaching her with a combat knife, which glints cruelly in the late-morning sun.

Never one to simply allow the fight to come to her, Daisy rushes the man with the knife, hoping to overwhelm him and force a mistake, but she’s grabbed from behind by three men who are barely able to hold her in place. She manages to kick the legs out from one of them, but the one in the middle gets her in a chokehold. She claws at his arm, getting a good grip and begins to pull it away, but the one with the knife approaches her. The temptation to blow her cover and use her powers nearly overwhelms her.

Until, of course, a half-filled water bottle arcs through the air and manages to strike the knife-wielding foe in the back, distracting him long enough for Daisy to finish breaking out of the chokehold. Following that, more makeshift projectiles soar through the air, to shouts and jeers from the crowd behind them. Daisy can’t help but grin. Don’t mess with National City.

She elbows the man who had her in a chokehold, and while he’s stunned she choke-slams him against the asphalt. Deciding to no longer hold back her Inhuman strength, she tears through the rest of the Patriots felling most of them with single, precise blows. She punches one of them in the face, and he immediately collapses. Another manages to land a strike on her head, which she no-sells and retaliates with a powerful front kick, which sends the attacker flying. She keeps going and going, ripping through the Last Patriots.  The crowd cheers her on.

The remaining attacker doesn’t make it easy for her, as he draws his combat knife and manages to just barely graze her forearms twice with it. She figures that she’ll need to finesse this fight, and so lands two kicks to his lead leg, quick enough that he isn’t able to react with his knife. She feints a third kick, which causes him to flinch just enough for her to effortlessly transition into a question-mark kick that lands square on his head and sends him tumbling to the ground.

The crowd cheers, and she’s about to acknowledge them when two black SUVs come flying down the street, screeching to a halt a safe distance from her. More of the Last Patriots flood out of them, each brandishing an assault rifle.

“Shit,” Daisy mumbles beneath her breath.

Acting purely on instinct, she throws her hands up and blasts them with vibrational energy, sending the men flying and the SUVs skidding backwards. The men lie on the ground, stunned, their guns and other pieces of equipment strewn across the street behind them. The crowd falls into utter silence.

Daisy turns back around to look at them. In that moment, she realizes the bandana she had tied around her face has fallen off, exposing her identity to the crowd. She clenches her fists and steadies herself.

“It’s Quake!” someone from the crowd shouts.

“She’s back!” another shouts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, again, please follow me on my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) and/or on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)


	5. call the police

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out - one of my college friends has been in town and I've been super busy as a result. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this story, because I'm honestly having so much fun writing it! Just had to take a little break, and we should be back to our regularly-scheduled programming after this. I hope you guys enjoy this one! 
> 
> As always, please check out my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)

“What the hell were you thinking?” Alex asks. “Didn’t you listen to what I told you right before you went to the march?”

“I was thinking that I would protect the ten-thousand odd marchers out there today!” Daisy says. “The police force has obviously been compromised, and they took the Kryptonians out as soon as they could. I didn’t exactly see any DEO agents rushing to my side, either.”

“Hey, watch it,” Vasquez says.

“I did what I had to do,” Daisy says. “What was I supposed to do, just wait in the crowd as they brandished their guns and shouted everyone down?”

“I understand that, but do you know how many questions this is going to raise?” Alex asks. “You’re the one who wanted to retire Quake in National City. Now you’re going to get scrutinized and criticized from every angle. And how do you think Ross is going to react?”

“I wasn’t thinking of any of that in the moment,” Daisy says. “When those SUVs pulled up and more and more Last Patriots flooded out, all of them with guns, what was I supposed to do? You really think I’m going to worry about what Ross thinks about me in a situation like that? He knows all about me.”

Alex groans and rubs her forehead.

“Ross isn’t aware of the extent of your new abilities,” she says. “We’ve had to obfuscate some details about you.”

Daisy clenches her jaw, her hands on her hips.

“What?” Daisy asks. “Why?”

“Daisy, you can dissolve any form of matter to their constituent particles and you can literally travel between our two worlds by manipulating vibrations,” Alex says. “Do you really think we could’ve given Ross that information? You can theoretically operate outside of whatever safety measures we put on either beam. That would scare him off more than anything.”

Daisy runs a hand through her hair. Here she had thought that Alex had wanted her to keep her identity a secret because of her standing with L-Corp, but now it turns out that it was all the result of some sort of political maneuvering. She doesn’t feel betrayed, but whatever emotion is surging through her right now is uncomfortably close.

“I’d like to point out that I didn’t teleport myself anywhere,” Daisy says. “Besides, I blasted those guys with my powers, I didn’t dissipate them.”   

“No, but anyone with half a brain would see you clearly dissolving all of their guns into nothing just a few minutes prior. This is a huge event, there are cameras everywhere,” Alex says. “If they can see you have that level of control over your powers, do you really think they won’t put two and two together and realize that you can manipulate the frequencies of the two worlds to travel between them? That concept is in the name of the beam itself – the Interdimensional Frequency-Equalized Spacetime Bridge.”

“I don’t see the big issue here,” Daisy says. “Let Ross throw a tantrum. He has power, but he’s just one person.”

“It’s not just about him. You’re now a bargaining chip within the committee.”

They turn to see Lena walking into the command center.

“Our side will give you up to Ross in the name of political expediency,” Lena says. “The talks are very delicate, and the more attacks we suffer the worse it gets.”

“Give me up?” Daisy asks. “I would like to point out that I’ve done nothing illegal.”

“You know Ross better than any of us,” Lena says. “Do you think that really matters to him?”

“I would hope that it matters to President Marsden,” Daisy says. “I refuse to be treated as illegal just because of my Inhuman powers.”

“Like I said, political expediency,” Lena says. “To her, you’re just another DEO special consultant.”

“I can’t believe this,” Daisy says. “Well, I’m sorry that I’m so politically inconvenient for everyone involved.”

“None of us like this,” Alex says. “I don’t want to play political hardball with Ross, but that’s the position I’m in. That we’re all in.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see how the committee will react to all of this,” Lena says, putting a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “There’s not much else we can do at the moment.”

Lena’s presence is comforting, as it always is, but that can only soothe Daisy so much. She places her hand atop Lena’s, trying her hardest to focus her frustrations on Ross and not on her friends. Right now, that’s more difficult than it sounds.

“How are Kara and Sam doing?” Alex asks.

“They’re recovering,” Lena says. “Jemma is still will them. In some ways, red sun exposure can be even more devastating than green kryptonite exposure, especially since so many flares were fired at them. After some time under the yellow sun lamps they’ll be fine, however.”

“Good. We need them back at full capacity as soon as possible. We need to move on the Last Patriots,” Alex says. “We just don’t have enough leads. Most of the compromised police officers fled in the chaos, though we captured most of them on drone footage.”

“Yeah, great, we keep saying that and nothing happens,” Daisy says. “You ever stop and wonder why?”

“Because they’re using guerilla tactics in our own city,” Alex says. “It took a focused investigation to get them the last time, too.”

“Look at how many police fell into their ranks,” Daisy says. “And look how far ahead of us they always are. I think they’re being protected by someone big. Someone that even we couldn’t touch.”

“That doesn’t exactly leave a lot of options for us,” Alex says. “What, do you think the President is telling them to bomb our cities?”

“I’m saying that the last time they were being supported by Maxwell Lord, who was at one point the wealthiest and most powerful businessman in National City,” Daisy says. “Lord was working with the Daxamites, too. And we still blew through that entire operation.”

“I did say a similar thing, ma’am,” Vasquez says. “The likelihood that they’re under new, more powerful leadership seems very likely.”

Alex lets it all soak in, her arms folded across her chest. Under the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the DEO base, Daisy can see just how tired she is, the bags beneath her eyes and the disheveled frizz of her hair. This has been hard on everyone.  

“Alright, look, I’m going to check in on Kara and Sam,” she says. “Please, fight amongst yourselves.”

* * *

Sam groans and laboriously pushes herself up to a seated position. She reaches up to steady herself and nearly crushes one of the natural sun lamps in the process. Alex and Jemma both rush to her side.

“Take it easy, Sam,” Jemma says, “You’re still recovering.”

“What happened out there?” Sam asks.

Jemma and Alex exchange a glance.

“The Last Patriots got some of the police force on their side and they shot specialized red-sun flares at you to sap you of your powers,” Jemma says. “It’ll take some time to get all of your strength back.”

“I feel awful,” Sam says, rubbing her head. “I feel like I’m back in college.”

“Yes, well, your body has become so used to the benefits of constant exposure to the yellow sun that such a harsh and quick deprivation of it will have effects similar to a hangover,” Jemma says. “Your cells are not very happy right now.”

“Great,” Sam says. “Were you guys yelling at each other? I’ve been in and out for the past fifteen minutes or so.”

“Yeah, Daisy had to use her powers to fight off the Last Patriots, which could open up a huge bag of worms,” Alex says. “Look, it’s fine. Everyone’s tensions are high right now.”

“Wait, is Daisy getting in trouble for protecting the march?” Sam asks, sitting up a little straighter.

“No, it’s just that the politics of…” Alex cuts herself off with a heavy sigh. “Look, I don’t want to re-litigate this. Just focus on resting up right now, okay? We need you back as soon as possible.”

“Alright,” Sam says, relaxing her posture, though she still looks somewhat uncomfortable.

Just as Jemma is about to say something, there’s a commotion behind them as Kara wakes up. She tries to push herself up to a seated position, slips, and nearly falls off of the examination table she’s on.

“Oh boy,” Alex says. “Kara, are you okay?”

Kara finally manages to sit upright; she rubs laboriously at her eyes with the heels of her palms, her usual cheery disposition muted.

“I feel awful,” Kara says. “I can’t even think of the last time someone used that red sun trick on me.”

“You were flying when it happened, too,” Jemma says. “Your body is healing beneath the sun lamps, but it will take some time.”

“Do we have any idea what’s going on?” Kara asks.

“Not yet,” Alex says. “But we will.”

* * *

“Hello,” Alex says. “Alex Danvers, Director of the DEO, identification code AD-(CHANGE THIS), one-time security phrase ‘uneasy martyr.’”

“Ah, there she is,” Ross says. “We have a lot to talk about this session.”

“We do,” Alex says. “Where do you want to start, Mr. Secretary?”

“Well, let’s start with Daisy Johnson, aka Quake,” Ross says. “I want to know why she can apparently melt assault rifles with her powers now.”

Alex rubs the bridge of her nose. This is it. She gives a quick rundown of Daisy and Jemma’s experiences in their universe, including their attempts to have Daisy use her powers to help bring them home. She also fully explains her ability to manipulate vibrations at the molecular level and beyond, and how that nearly saved the city from the Daxamite orbital bombardment.

“Well, that was left out of my briefings,” Ross says. “You’re telling me you’ve sat on this information until now? I want to remind everyone that trust is a big part of the relationship we’re trying to build here.”

“We never thought it would be important,” Alex says. “Daisy has been a trusted ally of ours and we have no reason to assume that she would misuse her powers.”

“Well, our perception of her over here is a little different,” Ross says.

“Which is also unfair,” Coulson says. “Daisy has been cleared of all charges against her. Which is what I stated very clearly in the report that you requested I create for you.”

“Most charges against her,” Ross says. “There were several months of unchecked vigilantism on her part that she does still need to answer for.”

“Those were under extreme consequences,” Coulson says. “SHIELD takes full responsibility of her actions during that time.”

“That’s great, but that doesn’t change the fact that Daisy is a wrench in our plans,” Ross says. “You mentioned that she could move between universes using her power.”

“It’s largely theoretical at this point,” Lena says.

“Elaborate,” Ross says. “Please.”

There’s a moment of tense silence.

“When Jemma used the Cube to transport the entire city, a three-location superposition formed,” Lena says. “Images from all three would intersect with one another, and Daisy was able to collapse this superposition using her powers. She essentially stabilized the frequencies between the worlds.”

“That sounds like she could do it,” Ross says. “You can all see the problem here, can’t you?”

“Elaborate,” Lena says. “Please.”

Alex has to stifle her laughter. Ross launches into the same argument she thought he’d use – that Daisy can bypass whatever security measures that exist around the beams to access either world at any time.

“Not only that, but she’s friends with you, Lena, and Director Danvers, according to all reports,” Ross says. “That tips the scales of power in your favor. We need to make sure that we can have some relative peace before the talks even begin.”

“Well, she is a former agent of SHIELD,” Coulson says. “I’m pretty sure she still likes us.”

“Yes, well, we’ve discussed her storied past at SHIELD,” Ross says. “I think it goes without saying that I don’t trust her to act in the interests of the United States. Or the world.”

“Assuming that we would exploit her like this, what would we even have her do?” Lena asks. “What could Daisy do that you’re so afraid of?”

“Well, let me think. She’s the ultimate covert operative,” Ross says. “She can travel between worlds at will, allowing her to gain access to any location and escape any threat. She can apparently dissemble anything at a molecular level, meaning there’s no barrier we can throw in her way that will slow her down for long. On top of that, she’s received top marks in her SHIELD training, especially in hand-to-hand combat and espionage, and she’s an accomplished hacker. My question is – what couldn’t she do?”

“Where are you going with this?” Marsden asks. “What do you want to do?”

“Clearly I’m alone in this, but I feel she presents a significant risk to our plans for peace,” Ross says. “I think she should be detained. At least until the peace talks have concluded.”

Alex finds herself clenching her fists involuntarily.

“You can’t be serious,” Lena is quick to say. “We’ve pushed back the peace talks again to allow time for the convention center to be rebuilt. It would be months in detention for absolutely no reason!”

“She has a record, Ms. Luthor,” Ross says. “We can’t have her leap between worlds at will.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Alex asks. “There’s no reason that Daisy would want to cause any trouble in your world. And she’s from your world.”

“She’s a rogue element,” Ross says. “This situation is delicate enough as it is. Look, I know that I don’t have the only voice here, but I’m strongly suggesting that something be done about Daisy.”

“I could just tell her not to do anything stupid,” Coulson says, the lightest dusting of humor to his voice. “I’m pretty sure she’ll still listen to me.”

“Now is not the time to inject a little levity, Director,” Ross says. “I’m sure you’ll all want to deliberate over this decision, but I’ve made my position clear. Take care of Daisy, or these peace talks won’t go smoothly.”

Ross disconnects his line. Of all ultimatums to deliver, Alex figures that’s about what she had expected.

“We do need to think this over,” Marsden says. “If you don’t want this to happen, and I imagine you don’t, we’ll need counter-proposals. I hope to hear from you all soon.”

She disconnects as well, and everyone else follows suit.

Alex paces around her quiet office for a moment, deep in thought. Daisy has always been a wrinkle in the peace talks that she had hoped they would avoid entirely. She can’t help but feel at least partially responsible – she’s continued to allow Daisy to work with them on missions, despite the inherent risks involved. Daisy has always been eager to help, though, and her commitment to working for L-Corp has done little to change that.

“What a disaster,” Alex says to her empty office, before leaving to grab another cup of coffee.

* * *

“And we have for you stunning, exclusive footage, taken by phone, of the attack on the Solidarity March. I want to warn our viewers that this footage is chaotic and intense, but may shed some light on what happened just earlier today in downtown National City.”

The newscaster nods at the camera, and they switch over to footage of the attack. The video starts out innocently enough, a ground level view of the march, the person behind the camera clearly pointing out various signs that people are carrying. The sound of chants and shouted conversations all intermingle to form a wall of noise, to a nearly unbearable degree.

Above that cacophony, though, a faint whistling sound can be heard, and the camera whips upwards just in time to catch the first red sun flare bursting above them. The change in color and brightness is enough to cause the camera lens to freak out for a moment, before the image finally adjusts to something visible. The crowd all screams at once and everyone seems to start running in a different direction. More flares continue to burst overhead, the red color becoming more and more saturated, as if someone was painting over the scene with a brush.

In the commotion, as the person behind the camera also starts to run, a dark figure streaks through the frame and lands amongst the crowd, nearly crashing into people on the way down.

“Oh, Sam,” Jemma says.

The video cuts off a few moments after that, as the person recording just clutches their phone as they sprint further and further away from the red sun flairs bursting in the air, the footage becoming even more chaotic and unwatchable.

They return to the newscasters in the studio after that, the two of them sporting somber expressions on their faces. Jemma and Daisy, both paused in their living room in the midst of their morning routine, hardly look much better. The newscasters launch into a diatribe about the dangers of the Last Patriots and hint at the failure of the Kryptonians to contain this threat, and Daisy has to look away.

“The longer the Last Patriots are out there, the worse our situation becomes,” Daisy says. “They want to get to a point where the peace talks are an unachievable goal, and it’s actually working.”

“We’re going to get a break soon,” Jemma says. “We have to. The more operations they run, the more evidence there is. Nobody can hide everything, that’s just now how it works.”

“Well, they’ve been doing a hell of a job so far,” Daisy says. “We’ve had eight of them in custody forever and not even Vasquez has been able to get anything out of them.”

“It’s frustrating,” Jemma says. “But, we can’t think about this now. We have a whole week of work ahead of us, and I can’t fall behind on any of my projects. The real world has to keep churning on, or it means that they’ve really won.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Daisy says. “I don’t know how I’m going to focus.”

“Just think of Lena,” Jemma says. “She’s put her neck out just by hiring us. We owe it to her to at least try and do our jobs.”

“I know,” Daisy says. “I just can’t stand the idea of sitting around and doing nothing – wait, look at this.”

Daisy points back at the TV screen, where the news channel is airing shaky, handheld footage of Daisy herself, a rainbow-printed bandana barely obscuring her identity, tearing through the Last Patriots. The video ends with the attackers defeated and the bandana falling away from her face, revealing just who she is.

“You can see here that the extremely popular hero known only as ‘Quake’ seems to have returned to National City,” the newscaster says. “Though the reason for her hiatus from action is unexplained, we’re certainly happy to have her back, especially now.”

Daisy leans forwards, her hands clasped, and her expression unreadable. Jemma reaches out and slowly rubs her back.

* * *

“Right this way, sir,” the driver says.

“Thank you,” Ross says.

He steps out of his black, government-issued sedan and out onto the tarmac. The awaiting helicopter has already powered up, its engine whining and the blades of its rotors buffeting the air around it.  He buttons his suit and ducks as he steps into its cabin. One of the pilots closes the door behind him, leaving the interior in relative silence.

The man he’s supposed to be meeting with is already there – he’s an R&D project lead from a weapons technology firm that has a contract with the government. He has a couple of messy manila folders clutched in his hands, and his glasses are slightly askew. They’ve met once before, briefly, at the start of their shared project, and Ross remembers him being a shy and unassuming sort of man. Someone who wouldn’t spill any secrets.

“Do you want a drink?” Ross asks. “I know they usually have something stashed away on these things.”

“No, it’s fine,” the lead says. “I probably shouldn’t, not at this time of day.”

“Fair enough,” Ross says. “Thank you for meeting with me today. I’ve wanted to see the new testing site for weeks now; I’ve just never found the time.”

“Well, it’s working very well,” he says. “Especially with all of the new funding you’ve secured for us. Everything is state of the art, working perfectly.”

“That’s great,” Ross says. “You’ve been good about getting reports to me, which I appreciate.”

Ross sighs, about to continue, when one of the pilots sticks his head in the passenger cabin.

“Hey, we’re going to be taking off.”

“Thank you,” Ross says.

Once he’s sure that they won’t be overheard or interrupted again, Ross continues.

“Look, we’re going to need to move our timeline forward,” Ross says. “I have confirmation that Kryptonia has an enhanced individual who can move between worlds.”

The project lead is stunned into silence for a few moments. Ross leans back, smoothing the fronts of his jacket.

“Well, we’ve certainly theorized, but we’ve never…” he says. “That’s quite incredible. How does that work?”

“It’s Daisy Johnson, AKA Quake,” Ross says. “She can manipulate her powers at such a fine level that she’s able to stabilize the vibrations between universes and, theoretically, travel between them.”

“That’s astounding,” he says. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, we can scrap the other ideas we’ve had,” Ross says. “Focus on vibration manipulation entirely. We now have solid evidence that it can work.”

“Great, well, thank you for your continued support of our work,” he says. “This can really change everything.”

“I know it will,” Ross says.

* * *

“I just got off the phone with the police,” Vasquez says. “Also, ma’am, you look terrible. When was the last time you went home at a reasonable hour?”

“Thank you for your candor, Vasquez,” Alex says flatly. “And you know me. I never get home at a reasonable hour. What do you have for me?”

“The police commissioner is sending over all of their personnel files,” Vasquez says. “We should be able to use that to find all of the remaining perpetrators from the Solidarity March, but they’ve figured out most of them just by keeping track of who doesn’t show up to work anymore. They’re conducting their own internal investigation as well, but we all know how that goes.”

“All too well,” Alex says, taking a sip of her coffee. “How forthcoming were they with this information?”

“Not very, but when are they ever?” Vasquez says. “They always like to protect their own, no matter what happens. And it’s still not going to be easy. The police officers were high up enough on those buildings that marchers weren’t able to get a good look at them, the footage we have from the event is mediocre at best, and essentially all of them were able to escape in the chaos of Daisy’s fight with the Last Patriots.”

“Are we working on getting phone and computer records?” Alex asks.

“We are, though I think I’m being stonewalled,” Vasquez says. “Who knows what other scandals we can uncover if we’re given access to communications amongst the police.”

Alex chuckles humorlessly.

“I know what you mean,” Alex says. “Well, I can call up the mayor and see if I can get him to lean on them a little. Thanks again for all of your good work, Vasquez.”

“That’s the job,” Vasquez says. “Ma’am, if I can ask, what are you going to do about Daisy?”

Alex sighs.

“I’m not sure. She’s not even from this universe, and yet she’s being treated as our most dangerous weapon,” Alex says. “I almost want to send her back to Coulson so they can handle this internally, but I’m not sure if that’s the best course of action. And it’s not my decision to make, ultimately. We’ll have to see what kind of deals Ross gets done with the rest of the committee and we’ll just have to deal with the fallout.”

“Same as usual, then?” Vasquez asks, the hint of a grin on her face.

“Yeah, you know nothing ever changes for us,” Alex says.

* * *

“Hey, Kara, come on in,” Daisy says. “You look great.”

Kara looks down at herself – she’s dressed plainly, wearing just a plaid button-up shirt and a pair of jeans – but she does tend to get a lot of positive feedback for this outfit, so she wears it a lot.

“Thank you,” Kara says, quickly hugging her. “You do too, of course.”

“Well, come on in,” Daisy says. “Sam is already here.”

“Sam is making herself a cocktail using all of the fancy alien liquor that Lena left here,” her voice calls out from the kitchen. “You want something?”

“I’ll whip something up myself, Clark showed me a new recipe when I was back home,” Kara says, making her way into the kitchen. “How are you doing, Sam?”

“Well, I’m drinking on a weeknight, so there’s that,” Sam says. “Also, have you seen this?”  

She slides her phone across the counter to Kara, who picks it up and looks at the news article open on the screen. A picture of Sam slumped against the asphalt is displayed front and center.

“Sam, you can’t read crap like this,” Kara says. “People are never going to be happy with us, and that’s fine. That’s something we have to accept.”

“This isn’t from some local gossip rag, this ran on page 2 in one of the biggest papers in the country,” Sam says. “The whole world has their eyes on us, and this keeps happening. How can people trust us to protect this city if we can’t even protect ourselves?”

“It was a one-in-a-million attack,” Kara says. “They coordinated with the police to take us down. We’ll be more prepared next time. Lena already has working prototypes of suits with internal yellow sun radiation production.”

“Yeah, and then they’ll probably figure out some other way to take us down or keep us out of the fight,” Sam says. “We need to find these guys. They’re running circles around everyone.”

“I know you’re frustrated, Sam, and you have every right to be,” Jemma says. “Being under so much scrutiny like this is never easy. And, between the investigation and the committee, I know that Alex hasn’t been around a lot.”

Sam sighs.

“I know. It’s so frustrating,” Sam says. “She’s always busy, not that I blame her for that, and when we do get some time together I’m miserable. I have this cloud hanging over me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, you’re doing great,” Daisy says. “I mean, clearly none of us are equipped to take on these guys alone.”

“I know, but I feel like the media piles on every time I make a mistake,” Sam says. “With every little thing I do, some speculation comes out that I’m reverting back into Reign. It seems like this city will never fully trust me, and it definitely won’t if I keep failing like this.”

The room is silent for a moment, until Kara clears her throat.

“When I first started out as Supergirl, I had no idea what I was doing,” Kara says. “I constantly made mistakes, and I still do, but you should’ve seen me back then. I was getting slammed left and right in the news, people kept comparing me – negatively, mind you – to Superman, and nobody believed in me, except for, y’know, Alex, and James and Winn. It was a nightmare. But do you know what that taught me?”

Kara pauses for effect.

“That you can and should rely on the people around you for strength. Because we are stronger together,” Kara says. “But, at the end of the day, you need to have your own inner-strength to rely on. Because that’s what’s going to protect you from all of the criticism and the doubts and all of the noise out there. You need to trust yourself that you’re doing the right thing, even if you make mistakes. Because that just teaches you not to make that mistake the next time.”

Sam sighs.

“Thanks, Kara,” Sam says. “I’m glad you have my back, even after everything that’s happened.”

“Yeah, of course,” Kara says. “And you are dating my sister, so if I’m not nice to you she’ll yell at me.”

Sam chuckles.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” she says. “Hey, do you want to show me this new alien cocktail?”

“Absolutely,” Kara says, grinning at her.

* * *

As Daisy and Jemma are getting ready for yet another day of work, they’re interrupted by a knock at the door. They exchange a glance before Daisy heads over to see who it is – their apartment is on a private floor, and only people with prior approval can get in. She peeks through the peephole to see Alex standing there, looking displeased, dressed in her all-black DEO uniform. 

“Alex,” Daisy says, opening the door for her. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” Alex says.

“Oh, sure,” Daisy says. “Come on in.”

Alex steps inside, taking a few moments just to take in the sunrise, which is throwing its glowing rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“There was an IFESTB committee call last night, and we’ve come to a decision on what to do with you,” Alex says.

“Glad to hear that I wasn’t consulted for this,” Daisy says, folding her arms across her chest.

“We can’t include you in those talks,” Alex says. “Not without breaking about a half-dozen uneasy alliances.”

“Fine, I know you don’t like this either,” Daisy says. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“We’ve managed to stonewall Ross for now,” Alex says. “But before you start celebrating, I have to let you know that it’s come at a cost. Effective as of tonight, you’ve been officially retired as a DEO consultant, and any further actions as ‘Quake’ will be seen as an act of vigilantism.”

“Who’s coming after me if I end up conducting any ‘vigilantism?’” Daisy asks.

“I will,” Alex says. “And I’ll let you know now that I won’t be happy about it.”

“Great,” Daisy says. “I’m thrilled they’re setting us up on opposite sides.”

“One of the many perks of the job,” Alex says sardonically. “Oh, and just to make things clear, because you’re no longer a consultant, you will no longer have access to any of the DEO facilities or resources, which includes our gym and the server containing our current case files.”

“Is that so?” Daisy asks.

“It is,” Alex says. “So, if you need to get anything, I’d do so now, before your credentials expire. Now, I also have to say that copying any files off of our server is strictly prohibited and heavily monitored. We have several safeguards in place to prevent such activity. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A grin turns up one of the corners of Daisy’s mouth.

“I hear you,” Daisy says. “Thanks for coming over, Danvers.”

“Always happy to look out for my people,” Alex says. “Even my former consultants.”

As soon as Alex leaves their penthouse, Daisy logs onto her computer with Jemma peering over her shoulder and opens a secure tunnel to the DEO servers. Her login credentials still work, as Alex had said, and she quickly obfuscates her identity from the DEO cybersecurity programs and successfully copies every single document related to the Last Patriots case, including the thousands upon thousands of emails and other such forms of correspondence collected from local National City police precincts.

“Did you get it all?” Jemma asks.

“I got it all,” Daisy says.

* * *

“Come in, Vasquez,” Alex says. “What do you have for me?”

Vasquez steps into the office, her gaze quickly travelling across all of the documents piling up on the desk and the mugshots and sticky notes attached to a cork board on the wall. It’s been less than twelve hours since they last spoke and it seems as if Alex’s office has gotten exponentially messier in that time.

“Keeping busy, I see,” Vasquez says, a hint of humor to her voice. “We just got this from the FBI.”

She tosses an unmarked thumb drive onto the desk.

“What is this?” Alex asks, picking it up.

“Their team has finished combing through the footage of the attack,” Vasquez says. “They’ve identified the likely police collaborators. They said they only got about a quarter of them, though.”

“Well, there were twenty officers who shot off flares,” Alex says. “Cracking five of them might be enough to get the rest. I’ve got a report from the police commissioner regarding who has been missing from work following the attack. I’m going to get a team of agents to match that data up and see if we can’t get positive IDs.”

“This might be it, ma’am,” Vasquez says. “The Last Patriots just put themselves under a huge amount of scrutiny by collaborating with the police.”

“This could be our angle,” Alex says. “We need to hit this hard, and we need to hit this fast. We’ve probably already wasted too much time getting to this point, but once we have positive IDs on suspects, I want to move. You and I will be coordinating raids on the suspects’ homes, once we have that information.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Vasquez says. “I’ll prepare our fireteams.”

* * *

It doesn’t take long. With the information now at their fingertips, they’re able to quickly narrow down the list of suspects to just four police officers. From there, it’s easy to get everything that they need – addresses, phone numbers, personal histories, and more. The DEO HQ is thrown into a frenzy as everyone makes their final preparations before they go after their suspects, with Alex barking orders all the while.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want me out there?” Sam asks.

“I’m sure,” Alex says. “We’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way. I don’t want to risk them breaking out their red sun flares or anything like that again.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Sam says. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can,” Alex says. “But this is a simple operation. The DEO is well-equipped to knock on a few doors. Strap me in?”

Sam nods, securing her upper body armor and tightening the straps. She lets her hands linger for a moment, as her eyes find Alex’s.

“I just like being out there with you,” Sam says.

“Now don’t you start worrying about me,” Alex says. “I’ve run hundreds of missions here with the DEO, and trust me; this one is going to be one of the easy ones.”

“If you say so,” Sam says. “I’ll be watching your progress from the base, and I’ll be able to get any of the four locations in a heartbeat.”

“My guardian angel,” Alex says with a mixture of sardonic humor and sincerity. “I appreciate you having my back, but we’ll be back before you know it. And we’ll know a little more about the Last Patriots, too.”

“Good,” Sam says. “I’m ready to take them down.”

“So am I,” Alex says.

Alex grabs her ICER, checks the assembly, and quickly slides it back into its holster. There are few things she wants more than to take down the Last Patriots.

* * *

The four different fireteams head in unmarked black vans to the homes of the turncoat police officers. It’s mid-morning, an awkward enough time that most people are at work, so the streets are almost completely empty. The sunny weather, usually one of the main attractions of the city, feels right now to Alex harsh and bright. She wishes that there could be a way for them to wait until the nighttime to pull this off, but they can’t wait that long. Not when they’re so close.

Alex sits in the back of the van along with the other three members of her fireteam. Nobody talks, everybody stares down at their hands or at their feet, and the only movement anyone makes is the slight back-and-forth swaying in time with the motion of the vehicle. It’s clear that the other teams are doing the same, since they’re in constant communication over a secure channel in order to coordinate their raids. Alex can feel her heart thumping in her chest so she slows her breathing, trying her hardest to banish all thoughts from her mind except for the mission.

The van finally stops, just across the street from the apartment building that their target lives in, and they all leap into action. Moving as one, they all file out of the van, with Alex in the lead, and make their way into the apartment building. The building’s super was notified of the raids just moments prior to their mobilization, so the front door has been left unlocked for them. They march up two flights of stairs and stop just in front of the door to the target’s apartment. A few moments pass, and Alex receives confirmation that the other teams are in location.

This is it.

One of the agents, who’s stacked up against the door, opposite from Alex, looks at her for approval.

She nods.

The agent calls out the targets name and demands that they open the door and surrender. When that doesn’t happen, they breach the door, flooding smoothly into the living space.

It’s empty.

Now, clearly it’s been lived in, and recently, judging by the state of the clutter and the window that’s been cracked open about half an inch. It’s completely silent, though.

“Search the other rooms,” Alex says. “Be quick about it.”

The agents all fan out in search of their target, not there are many places to look – it’s a modest one bedroom, one bathroom apartment. Alex stalks through the living room and kitchen again, just in case they’ve missed something, but everything appears to be completely ordinary. The agents all report that the remaining rooms are all clear.

“Teams, check in,” Alex says.

Everyone reports that they’ve had the same experience –they’ve breached homes and apartments that have ended up being completely empty.

“They probably assumed we were coming,” Vasquez says. “Skipped town right after the attack.”

“They had to have left some kind of a trail,” Alex says. “Search for evidence. Leave no stone unturned.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” one of the agents says. “We can’t find anything.”

“This is unbelievable,” Alex says. “All four locations – no phones, no computers, no wallets, nothing. Nobody even left any flash drives or hard drives behind.”

“We have paper documents from all locations,” Vasquez says over comms. “We’ll go through that, see if we can find anything.”

“We will, and that might lead to something, but it seems as if they scrubbed these places clean,” Alex says. “I know they’re police officers, but we’re dealing with a level of professionalism far above a normal violent reactionary group.”

“We’re closing in on them,” Vasquez says. “We have everything on them. It’s only a matter of time until Daisy or someone finds some hidden text messages or something they left on the cloud or whatever.”

Alex can’t help but snort in laughter.

“Yeah, a great description of what Daisy does,” Alex says. “Anyway, we’ll take any relevant evidence. Get to work, people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, what the hell is going on???
> 
> As always, please leave a comment/kudos if you liked this chapter! Or even if you didn't like the chapter, I'm not the boss of you. I just love feedback of any kind
> 
> [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)


	6. House Built of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with another chapter to hopefully banish your Monday blues! I hope you're all still having fun reading this story, since I'm having so much fun writing it
> 
> As always, please check out my [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)

As has been happening more and more often, Daisy has become increasingly distracted at work. She feels as if she’s living two different lives – one as Daisy Wang, employee at L-Corp, and the other as Quake, consultant to the DEO and inimitable hacker. This is nothing new to her, of course. Not only is she now literally of two worlds, being from Nordica but living in Kryptonia, but she’s always been a woman of dual identities. White and Chinese. Human and Inhuman.

Now, as has often happened before, she can feel both lives pulling at her. She wants to be a good employee, even if for only Lena’s sake, but she can’t help but become preoccupied with her thoughts about the Last Patriots. The raids on the identified police officers have turned up nothing, which Alex was quick to share with the group in her frustration. Not only that, but as more and more time passes, the chances that they’ll be able to identify any of the turncoat police officers through eyewitnesses or other such sources get lower and lower. So, right now, they have nothing to work with besides their emails and voicemails.  

And as such, as she waits for her latest experimental exploit to worm its way through the L-Corp servers, she opens up the secure DEO server and starts rifling through the seemingly endless amounts of emails and personnel files that they’ve been given access to. She sighs, trying to think of appropriate keywords to use to comb through all of the data at her fingertips. Just to amuse herself, she searches for any instances of “Last Patriots” and finds nothing incriminating. Of course nothing shows up – when is anything ever that easy?

Though she’s not thrilled she’s thinking this way, given what a nightmarish invasion of privacy it would be, she does wish she had access to their personal communications. The DEO has been denied access, naturally, given that at least someone out there is concerned with personal privacy rights. That means that she’s locked into looking through their emails, and the only way they’d talk about the Last Patriots through work email would be in code. What that code may be, Daisy has absolutely no idea.

She sighs and leans back in her desk chair, glancing over at her coworker’s desk.

“Hey, have you taken your break yet?” Daisy asks.

“Uh, not yet,” her coworkers says. “What’s up?”

“I haven’t taken mine either,” Daisy says. “Let’s hit the break room. I just got an email saying there are leftovers from this morning’s meeting in there.”

It’s a flimsy reason to get him away from his work for a moment so that they can talk, but it’s all she can think of right now. In addition to general his cybersecurity experience, she knows that her coworker has done some work with the FBI analyzing large pools of metadata for any specific activity. If there’s anyone in the office who could help her out with the Last Patriots case, it’s him.

“Yeah, I’m game,” he says.

As they head to the break room, it strikes Daisy as to just how many empty desks there are around the office. Some people are working from home, of course, but many others are staying home simply out of fear of being downtown – two serious attacks will do that to people, even with the seemingly constant threat of danger present in National City.  

“Crazy, right?” he asks, seemingly picking up on Daisy’s thoughts. “The emptiest these offices have been since the remodel. I don’t blame them, though.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Daisy says. “Why are you still here?”

“I have an easy commute,” he says, grinning. “And I’ve been living in National City for ten years right now. I’ve seen some crazy shit here. This barely registers.”

“Yeah, I bet. Supergirl comes to town, aliens move in, dozens of invasions and attacks,” Daisy says. “It’s amazing that the rent is still so high.”

He chuckles.

“Yeah, well, we are right by the beach,” he says. “Are you going to grab something?”

He points at the picked-over platters of food on the countertops.

“I was eyeing those donuts earlier,” Daisy says.

“Those are gluten free, you know,” he says. “I don’t trust them.”

“More for me,” Daisy says.

She chews thoughtfully on her donut as she tries to think of how to formulate what she wants to ask.

“So, my internet friends and I are playing this cryptography game that one of us designed,” Daisy says. “We’re, like, pretending to be spies or whatever and track certain things down. It’s very nerdy.”

“No way, I used to do that with my college friends way back in the day,” he says. “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, but I’ve hit a bit of a wall,” Daisy says. “We’re trying to find a secret code in these simulated emails, but I really don’t know where to start. These emails are from the accounts of tons of ‘people.’ I mean, yeah, I can hunt for keywords and everything, but that only gets me so far.”

“Oh, this is fun,” he says. “Thanks for dragging me away from my work. So, the thing about secret codes or whatever is that they’re only going to be circulated amongst a smaller subsection of those people, right? An entire population isn’t going to be talking in code, if you guys are trying to emulate what would happen in real life.”

“We are,” Daisy says. “So, basically, I have to find some sort of commonality within that group?”

“You got it,” he says. “And that item of commonality should be the secret code.”

Daisy snaps her fingers.

“Oh, that makes so much sense,” she says. “I just have to filter for common phrases and hunt specifically for identical, repeated phrases.”

“See, you’re smart, you would’ve gotten that on your own,” he says.

“Yeah, but this is much easier,” Daisy says with a grin. “Thanks for the help.”

“You know I have your back,” he says.

* * *

Alex doesn’t have anything against doing things the old-fashioned way, but when it involves sifting through files and files of various documents, consisting of everything from doctor’s notes to receipts, it begins to weigh upon her patience. She doesn’t like that she has to assign an entire team just to scan every single document, but they don’t exactly have a choice – their leads have once again dwindled down to almost nothing, and they can’t let anything slip through their fingers.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time they get everything scanned into the DEO database, at which point they begin to search for anything suspicious – large bank deposits of similar dates, suspicious purchase, physical correspondence, anything. Alex can feel her eyes glazing over several times as she pores over the scanned documents, but she also knows that she’s pulled so many consecutive nights of overtime that there’s no way she’s going to be 100%.

She’s about to take a break and grab herself a cup of coffee when she spots something strange – a scrap of paper with two, seemingly innocuous numbers written on it. She stares at them, trying to figure out why some part of her brain clearly thinks they’re important.

“Vasquez, can you come and look at this?” Alex calls her over.

Vasquez looks up from her own computer screen – she’s studying the same set of files that Alex is – and promptly heads over. Somewhere in the back of her head, Alex makes a mental note to give her a serious raise once this is all over.

“What do you think about this?” Alex asks, turning the monitor towards her.

“Good question,” Vasquez says. “Phone numbers? Coordinates? Winning lottery numbers, which I could use right about now?”

“Well, let’s check,” Alex says. “We’ll start with phone numbers.”

She runs the two numbers through every phone number database that they have access to. As the program is running, she taps her fingers against her legs, the tendrils of anxiety beginning to creep up her gut. They’ve all been working this case with such intensity that she’s worried how people will react if they reach another dead end. She’s afraid of how she would react, too. She gets no results.

“Try them as coordinates,” Vasquez says.

Alex does that next. After a few tortuous moments as the program loads, the corresponding satellite image shows up on screen. A sigh of relief escapes her lips – there was a reason that she focused in on those numbers.

“Holy shit,” Alex says.

“National City,” Vasquez says. “Right outside of the old industrial district.”

“I know this place,” Alex says. “Hold on.”

She leans over and zooms in on the modest building in the center of the screen, her brow furrowed. Using the program’s built-in functionality, she brings up the approximate address of the building.

“What is it?” Vasquez asks.

“This is an old bar I used to go to,” Alex says. “Popular amongst law enforcement.”  

* * *

As soon as she gets back to her desk, Daisy quickly checks around to see if anyone can see her screens – they can’t, of course, since there are hardly any people there – and she begins reworking her search parameters, to the suggestions of her coworker. She lets her program run and returns to her actual job, since she does have actual work she needs to take care of.

After only about an hour, a notification pops up that lets her know that the search is done. Daisy, forever impressed by how impressive the computer hardware they have access to at L-Corp, checks to see what the results are.

Naturally, there are plenty of identified phrases that seem to be completely innocuous – the false positives. Apparently, police officers love discussing how many traffic tickets they’ve given out and mocking sexual harassment training, and as such several phrases from those conversations have come up over and over again. For a moment Daisy wonders if she should just leak all of these emails to the press but thinks better of it. Last Patriots first, dismantling the toxic culture of the police force second.

Finally, two phrases show up that seem suspicious. One of them is (look up police slang), which Daisy suspects is some sort of cop slang. The other is “The National Port,” which Daisy can’t quite make sense of. All that Daisy can think of that comes close to that is “The National City Port Authority,” which seems unlikely given the context of the emails they’re found in. She conducts a quick search online, eliminating any references to the port authority, and comes across an archived news article about The National Port Bar being shut down.

Daisy slumps down in her seat. That must just be a local haunt that a handful of the police officers frequent.

She’s about to close the browser window of the article when the year the article was published, 2014, catches her eye. She furrows her brow and goes back to the collected police emails, checking to see when they were referencing the bar. Strangely enough, every single email that contains the phrase “The National Port” is from this current year. She definitely can’t think of many reasons to be discussing a defunct bar unless it is some sort of a code.

This might actually be something. She can feel excitement buzzing through her body as she looks up the exact address of the place. Finally, this might be the breakthrough that they need. She enters the address into her phone and checks the time – it’s still only three in the afternoon, definitely well before she normally leaves to go home. She doesn’t want to waste any more time, though.

“Hey, I’m not feeling so great. Headache,” Daisy says. “I can just go home, right?”

“Well, we’re all union workers, so they can’t do anything to us,” her coworker says. “Check with the boss lady first, though.”

“Great,” Daisy says, already shoving her things into her backpack. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Uh, sure,” he says. “Feel better.”

Daisy flings her backpack over her shoulders and pokes her head into her boss’s office.

“Hey, I’m going to leave early today,” she says. “Headache. You know.”

Her boss is clearly surprised by all of this.

“Oh, okay!” she says. “That’s fine! I want all my employees to stay healthy, of course, and…”

“Cool, great,” Daisy says. “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye!” she says, calling out after Daisy. “Feel better!”

* * *

Daisy catches a rideshare to about a block away from the now defunct bar. She steps out of a car, surveying the streets around her – being such an awkward time of the day, there’s almost no activity going on right now, especially since the industrial district has been seeing less and less traffic over the years. It’s silent to the point that she can hear the calls of the seagulls above and the rush of wind from the ocean.

Having learned her lesson from the march, she pulls her own bandana out from her backpack and ties it around the lower half of her face, hopefully obscuring her identity just enough to not raise too many questions. She then presses unseen buttons on the smooth, silver bracelets around her wrists, and they begin to expand, sheets of impossibly thin metal sliding out to form something akin to her usual vibration-dampening gauntlets. They’re a gift from Lena, given to celebrate her first day of work, and she could hardly imagine receiving anything better.

She takes a deep breath and moves on the bar, which is now nothing more than a vacant, sunbaked structure, any personality shorn away by the steady process of time and covered over by graffiti and unexplained stains. The windows have been long covered up by newspaper and other wayward pieces of paper, blocking any view of the interior. It’s in a fairly innocuous location, surrounded on both sides by worn brick buildings that could be anything from warehouses to former storefronts. She tries the front door first to find it locked.

She turns around and slowly swings her gaze from left to right, confirming that she really is alone out here, and she places her hand against the doorknob and dissolves the locking mechanism. The door easily swings open, and she steps inside.

Though every surface has been overtaken by dust, the bar seemingly hasn’t much changed. The bar itself is still intact, though it’s of course bereft of any bottles of liquor. There are bar stools along with rickety wooden chairs and tables strewn about the, accompanied by a variety of chintzy nautical-themed decorations.

She slowly makes her way through the space when she notices a patch on the floor free of any grime or dirt. She kneels down and traces her fingers over that area, and they come away clean. There are faint scratch marks in the wood that accompany that unusual patch of cleanliness, as if something has been dragged repeatedly across it. Wear and tear on the floor of a bar isn’t so unusual, but that it’s so clean is. Someone has been here recently.

She’s about to stand up when she feels the barrel of a handgun come to rest against her skull.

“Put your hands where I can see them and stand up slowly.”

She’s about to use her powers to dissolve the gun when she recognizes the voice.

“Alex?” Daisy asks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She feels someone undoing the knot of her bandana until it falls away from her face and onto the dusty floor. She looks up to see Vasquez move until she’s standing in front of her, her gun trained right at her. Vasquez nods.

“Damn it, Daisy,” Alex says, holstering her handgun. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be at work.”

Daisy stands up, brushing herself off.

“Don’t tell Lena,” Daisy says, grinning.

“Be serious,” Alex says. “How did you end up here?”

“I ran a program that looked through all of the police correspondence that the DEO had access to,” Daisy says. “One phrase that the program found that circulated amongst a tight circle of police officers was ‘The National Port.’ This is what I found.”

“I can’t believe you,” Alex says. “You should’ve told me, not leave work so you can play cowboy and hunt these people down yourself.”

“I can’t just sit back and let you do all the work while terrorists are bombing the city,” Daisy says. “That’s just not how I’m wired.”

“I told you that you’re no longer a DEO consultant,” Alex says. “I should arrest you right here.”

“But are you going to?” Daisy asks.

Alex stands there, hands on her hips, and stares her down. Daisy returns her gaze unflinchingly.

“No, I’m not,” Alex says. “All of our friends would kill me. Just keep a low profile, and put that stupid bandana back on.”

Daisy grins at her before tying the black piece of cloth around the lower half of her face.

“Anyway,” Daisy says. “Right before you pointed your gun at my head, I discovered some scratch marks on the ground, here and here.”

Daisy once again kneels down, pointing out what she’s found.

“Interesting,” Alex says. “What are we thinking? Did they move around some piece of equipment in here? Is there some sort of secret basement?”

“Let’s find out,” Daisy says.

She closes her eyes and places her hand against the floor and sends out a quick, light burst of vibrational energy. 

“Basement,” Daisy says. “Check the floorboards for anything loose.”

“Your powers are so weird,” Alex says, and notices that all of the DEO agents are standing around. “You heard her. Get to work!” 

They all spread out and begin tapping and pulling at the floorboards around the scratch marks.

“Got it!” Vasquez says.

She pulls up one loose floorboard and pushes it out of place, contributing to the deepening of those same scratches in the floor. A few floorboards surrounding it are loose as well, and once they get those out of the way they reveal a rickety staircase descending into a shadowy basement. Musty, cold air slowly rises up to greet them.

“Ladies first,” Vasquez says.

“Your team is majority women,” Daisy says. “I’ll go first.”

“Take this,” Alex says as she grabs a tactical flashlight off of her utility belt and hands it to her. “Oh, and please don’t contaminate my crime scene.”

She also tosses a pair of blue nitrile gloves at Daisy, who accepts them with a wry grin.

“Thanks,” Daisy says. “I feel so official now.” 

Taking it one creaking, rotting step at a time, Daisy makes her way into the damp, dusty basement. The beam of the flashlight illuminates dust motes that lazily swirl out of the way with each step that she takes. When she reaches her bottom, the bottom of her shoe makes contact with metal instead of wood, and the resulting clang reverberates throughout the space. She shines the flashlight about until the beam lands upon a light switch, which she toggles experimentally.

The lights all come on at once, and Daisy has the shield her eyes. She had been expecting maybe a single dim, overhead light, if anything at all, but instead rows of fluorescent lights switch on.

“What the hell?” Alex asks.

Daisy finally lowers her gauntleted hand to observer her newly-revealed surroundings. The basement bears no resemblance to the defunct bar above; it’s filled with computers, screens of all sizes, a server tower, and other such equipment. There are a couple assault rifles and shotguns hanging on the far wall, and it’s clear that the space once held much more weaponry. A lone workbench stands in the corner of the room, still covered with an assortment of tools. The flooring as well as several of the walls have been covered in metal tiling, making the space look something like a doomsday bunker.

“What is this place?” Vasquez asks.

“Staging ground, I think,” Alex says. “Looks abandoned.”

“It has been,” Daisy says. “Look, the hard drives have been ripped out of all these computers. This server tower has been completely destroyed, too. Not much to go on.”

 “Ma’am, these weapons are all lead-lined,” he says. “Old L-Corp designs.”

“Well, all roads lead to the Last Patriots,” Alex says. “Let’s see if we can find anything else.”

Daisy makes her way to the workbench. She inspects the tools, which all appear to be worn and well-used, along with being better suited for working on smaller objects. She runs her fingertips against the workbench and they come up bright red, a harsh contrast to the pale blue of her gloves

“I’ve got some kind of red powder over here,” Daisy says. “Does anyone have any way to collect this?”

One of the DEO agents walks over and scoops a small amount of the residue into a glass vial, which he closes shut and seals tightly. The substance is aggressively red, looking almost like powdered food coloring.

“Any thoughts?” Alex asks.

“No idea,” Daisy says. “We need to get these back to the lab.”

“Yeah, we need to test a bunch of this stuff for fingerprints, too,” Vasquez says. “Though I doubt they left any behind.”

“You never know,” Alex says. “Maybe this is the one time they slipped up.”

“One can hope,” Daisy says.

“Hey, I’ve got something,” one of the DEO agents interjects. “I’m not sure what, but it’ something.”

He holds up a silver-colored piece of tech; it’s only identifying feature being what appears to be a small red light, which is now turned off.

“Looks like a pager without a screen,” Alex says. “Where’d you find it?”

“Beneath the server tower,” he says. “It looks like someone kicked it under there and forgot about it.”

“That’s where I’ve lost a lot of stuff,” Daisy says.

“Thanks for the input, Daisy,” Alex says. “Take that with us, too. It might be something.”

Alex slowly scans the room.

“One last sweep,” she says. “And then we get all of this back to HQ.”

* * *

Before they all load up into the SUVs and return to the DEO headquarters, Alex stops Daisy in the dusty bar, just before the door.

“Hey, you should get back to work,” Alex says. “Or head back home.”

“What?” Daisy asks. “I want to help. I got this far, didn’t I?”

“Look, your help is greatly appreciated, but we really can’t be seen working with you,” Alex says. “Especially with your credentials stripped. Bringing you into HQ could cause a huge incident.”

“You think someone is going to, what, take a picture of me in one of these unmarked SUVs on the way back to your secret base?” Daisy asks. “This is ridiculous.”

“This definitely isn’t ridiculous,” Alex says. “What if the President asks about my involvement with you? Do you want me to lie to her?”

“I –”

“I’m serious,” Alex says. “Do you want to put me in that position?”

Daisy clenches her fists and stares off into the distance for a moment.

“No, I don’t,” Daisy says. “I’ll head home.”

“Thank you,” Alex says. “I know this is hard for you, and you’ve been a huge help to us so far, but we can’t risk anything at this point. Just let us handle the investigation.”

* * *

“How is the project coming along?” Ross asks.

“Very well,” the team lead says. “Much faster than we could have anticipated. We should have a working prototype ready for you by tomorrow.”

“Excellent,” Ross says. “You beat my original deadline by nearly a week. I’m impressed.”

“With the increased funding and the focus on a single mode of transportation, we’ve been able to redouble our efforts,” he says. “This is truly incredible technology that we’re creating. We might change everything. Warfare, espionage, even something as simple as transportation and supply lines.”

“I appreciate your ambition,” Ross says. “And remember, you have the full weight of the United States Military behind you. Just not publicly.”

“Of course not,” he says. “We wouldn’t want to make any of our elected officials nervous, would we?”

“They’ll learn, in time,” Ross says. “Until then, we operate under the same protocols of security and secrecy.”  
  
“Absolutely,” he says.

“Wonderful,” Ross says. “Dismissed.”

The line goes dead, and Ross stands up from his desk, smoothing down the front of his slate grey suit. He walks over to the window in his office that overlooks the street below, and he spends a few moments observing the people scurrying from one place to another. All of them are so blissfully unaware of exactly what goes on in this building, the decisions and sacrifices being made to keep not only the United States safe, but the whole world safe.

He shuts the blinds and returns to his desk.

* * *

“Lena, how busy are you?” Alex asks.

Lena cradles her phone against her shoulder, quickly flipping through the mountains of paperwork that has piled up on her desk.

“Oh, the normal amount,” Lena says. “Why?”

“So, you’re insanely busy, got it,” Alex says. “If you can stomach leaving work early, we could use you down at HQ. We finally found one of the Last Patriots’ bases of operation, and we could use your help identifying possible L-Corp related materials.”

Lena’s expression immediately changes and she begins shoving anything she thinks she might need into her purse.

“I’ll be right there,” she says.

* * *

“Lena,” Vasquez greets. “Thanks for coming. Alex is in the lab.”

“Fantastic,” Lena says. “I’ve called Jemma in, too, though she’s finishing up at L-Corp and won’t be in until later.”  

“Of course,” Vasquez says. “Here, right this way.”

The two of them head into the DEO labs, were Alex and a handful of lab techs are working on identifying the substance they had discovered. Across the room, a couple of agents are busy breaking down one of the lead-lined assault rifles, neatly setting each part down after thoroughly inspecting it. Another team is working on scanning and disassembling the strange piece of tech they found beneath the server farm.

“Hey, Lena, thanks for coming,” Alex says. “We’re working on identifying the composition of this substance we found at the operating base. We think it’s related to the red sun flares, but we haven’t found anything conclusive yet.”

Alex hands her a tablet with the results they have so far on the substance, which she carefully reads over.

“This seems familiar,” Lena says, handing the tablet back to Alex. “Give me a moment.”

She pulls her phone out of her purse and sets it down on a relatively clean section of one of the lab benches. After a few taps on the screen, the phone begins projecting a holographic 3D visualization of the L-Corp servers, which Lena is able to manipulate with her hands. Everyone gathers around as she makes her way back into archived files from the company’s Luthor Corp days, hunting down any anti-Kryptonian technology she can find.

“Here we go,” Lena says. “I thought that list of compounds looked familiar to me. Lex had been working on a way to simulate the effect of the red sun’s rays in order to incapacitate Kryptonians.”

“Look at this,” Alex says. “‘Wide-spread aerosolization of compound will strip Kryptonians of their abilities.’ He clearly had some grand ambitions for this stuff.”

“Knowing him, I’m sure he wanted to blanket all of Metropolis with it,” Lena says. “If not the entire world. However, he could never get it to work the way he wanted to. The requisite density of the particulates was so high that it would’ve prohibitively expensive not only to launch it into the air, but to maintain it as well.”

“But the Last Patriots didn’t need to cover the whole city,” Alex says. “Just the area above the march.”

“Exactly,” Lena says. “They only needed to concentrate the red sun analog into a small area. Their use of what appeared to be repurposed flare guns was quite ingenious; they turned out to be effective dispersal tools.”

“Where could they have gotten the information on this substance from?” Alex asks. “Was it from the breach?”

“Likely,” Lena says. “I’m sure Lord was interesting in stealing all of Lex’s anti-Kryptonian technology.”

“This is all very interesting, but where do we go from here?” Vasquez asks.

“Several of the chemicals that go into making the substance are heavily regulated, so they’ll be easy to track,” Lena says. “Alex, I’d suggest you start making inquiries into chemical supply companies.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Alex says. “I’m glad we got that sorted out. Now, I want to take a look at this.”

She grabs the mysterious device they picked up from the Last Patriots’ hideout and places it down on a table whose entire flat surface is a massive, touch-sensitive screen. The smart table recognizes the device as it’s placed down upon it and projects a blown-up, holographic version of it. Alex makes a quick gesture, and the hologram of the device blows apart so that all of its inner components can be seen.

“Now, I have a crazy idea,” Alex says. “Look at this.”

She taps on the table and brings up the schematics for their trans-universal communication devices, the same ones that she and Lena use to communicate with their fellow committee members in Nordica. Lena takes a step forward and inspects the two holograms, hovering side-by-side, zooming in on key components and overlaying others to observe any similarities.

“I can certainly see where you’re coming from,” Lena says. “I’ll admit I’m not exactly an expert on our trans-universal communicators. Is there someone else we can bring in to examine this?”

“I have an idea,” Alex says.

* * *

“This is fascinating. Where did you find this?”

“In the terrorist’s evil lair,” Vasquez says. “So, what do you think?” 

The hologram of Fitz rubs his short cropped beard before scratching at the back of his neck.

“This is some impressive engineering,” Fitz says. “You really found this in one of the Last Patriots’ operating bases?”

“We did,” Alex says. “Unless they stole it from someone else, it seems like it’s theirs.”

“Well, your intuition was correct, director,” Fitz says. “It’s a miniaturized version of our trans-universal communications tech, though it can’t transmit or receive anything even marginally complex.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lena asks.

“It certainly can’t handle holograms like this one, nor can it handle video, voice calls, or even texts,” Fitz says. “It looks like the only function that can activate upon receiving a signal is this light.”

Hologram-Fitz points at the small red dot on one face of the device.

“That seems oddly rudimentary,” Lena says. “Why create a device that just turns a light on?”

“Morse code, if I had to guess.”

They turn around to see Jemma walking in, her work bag still slung over her shoulder.

“Sorry, the last test we were running took a little longer than I had anticipated,” she says. “Anyway, if I can remember my science correctly, Morse code would theoretically be more difficult for our communications monitoring devices to pick up on, since it has the possibly to be lost amongst the background vibrations of  the two universes.”

“Yes, Jemma, that’s brilliant,” Fitz says. “It’s easy to screen the transmission of, say, audio, since that data is so distinct. Morse code, though, in addition to being a more archaic form of communication, also wouldn’t be picked up on unless you’re specifically looking for it.”

“I’m sorry, but I need to ask – can we track who’s doing this?” Vasquez asks. “Who would want to talk to a bunch of homegrown terrorists?”

“I have two big ideas,” Alex says. “One: whoever it is, they want to specifically support the ideology of the Last Patriots. They want to shut down the beam and prevent any, or at least most, immigration. Or two: they want to destabilize the political situation here in order to take advantage of the chaos, regardless of ideology.”

“Well, this device narrows down the range of possibilities,” Fitz says. “There are only a handful of people in both worlds who understand the technology of trans-universal communication, and even fewer who would have access to the schematics of the communicators we do have. So, either there’s been a breach of our security and the schematics got leaked, or whoever’s doing this already has the appropriate security access. Who would that leave us with?”

“From Nordica?” Lena asks. “Director Coulson. The Secretary of the UN. A handful of heads of state, including the President of their United States. And, of course. Secretary Ross.”

* * *

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Yes, Madam President,” Alex says. “We’ve had the device looked over by researchers from both sides of the beam, all leading minds in this field, and they agree that it’s some sort of communication device that works across the universal divide.”

“This is troubling news,” Marsden says. “This greatly broadens the scope of your investigation.”

“It does,” Alex says.

“Who have you shared this information with?” Marsden asks.

“Only the researchers,” Alex says. “I realize that this is very sensitive information.”

“It absolutely is,” Marsden says. “Keep this within the DEO, director. I fear the reaction we’ll get from Nordica if we reveal this information. Especially from Secretary Ross.”

“Of course,” Alex says. “Is that all, ma’am?”

“Keep me posted, as you always are so good with,” Marsden says. “Get to the bottom of this, director. We can’t have this hanging over our heads for too long.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex says.

* * *

“How is the situation unfolding?”

“Perfectly,” one of them says, his thin, reedy voice slicing through the room. “Distrust is continuing to grow between both worlds as the situation becomes more and more chaotic.”

“We haven’t seen any reason to intervene at all,” another says, her voice gravelly and low. “They’ll tear one another apart soon enough.”

“Good,” the first speaker says, his voice deep and booming. “Continue to monitor the situation. We will make our move soon, but we must be patient. They will only continue to make one another weaker.”

“I’m still unsure of this plan,” yet another voice chimes in, his voice unusually unconfident. “If we strike quickly enough, we can retrieve what we need before anyone even knows what’s happening.”

“The presence of what they refer to as ‘Kryptonians’ changes the math,” the one with the deep and booming voice says. “As long as the portal between worlds remains open, we must assume that they can and will interfere with our plans. No, we wait.”

* * *

Daisy is lounging on the couch, flipping through the case files on her laptop, when she hears the door open. She tosses her laptop onto the couch and stands up as Jemma walks in, who sighs loudly as she tosses her bag onto the floor and kicks her shoes off.

“Hey, you,” Daisy says, kissing her on the lips. “How was it?”

“It was a lot,” Jemma says. “I’m realizing now I haven’t eaten yet; do we still have any leftovers?”

“Yeah, there’s plenty of Chinese food from the last time Kara was over,” Daisy says. “Let me get some out for you.”

“Thanks, darling,” Jemma says, with a smile.

“So, what did you guys learn?” Daisy asks, trying to be casual, as she pulls out carton after carton of food.

Jemma quickly summarizes what they’ve found out, emphasizing their analysis of the strange trans-universal communication device that they found.

“Interesting,” Daisy says. “So, we’re thinking that the Last Patriots are collaborating with someone from Nordica?”

“That we are,” Jemma says. “Who exactly that is we don’t know. We’re currently monitoring the communications device for any messages, but they’re likely going to be in a code we’re also going to have to decipher.”

“They might know that device has been left behind, too,” Daisy says. “It’s possible that they’re going to send false information to throw us off.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Jemma sighs. “We’re dealing with a certain level of sophistication here, and we can’t expect anything to be easy.”

Daisy begins to pace, the gears turning in her head.

“I have an idea,” she says. “What if it’s Ross?”

“What?” Jemma asks.

“He’s the one who is most invested in stopping open movement between our worlds,” Daisy says. “From what Lena tells me, he’s always fighting against any proposal that looks to integrate our two worlds. His entire ideology lines up with the Last Patriots, they’ve just allowed themselves to be more outwardly violent about it.”

“Even if this were true, we don’t have any evidence of it,” Jemma says. “We would need to construct an ironclad case, and even if we did, it’s likely that he would be protected. Not only that, but it’s extremely possible that it’s anyone else from Nordica. Most of the powerful nations in the UN oppose open movement. The President of the United States in Nordica opposes it. It could be any of them. They could be allowing Ross to enact their plans so that he’ll take the brunt of the blame if they’re ever found out.”

“I know, but this is Ross,” Daisy says. “He always has schemes, and if those don’t work out he has more to fall back on. The violence he has inflicted upon the Inhuman community by forcing us all to out ourselves to the government makes it pretty clear to me that he doesn’t care about who gets hurt so long as he can pursue his goals.”

Daisy doesn’t realize how frustrated and angry she’s getting until she realizes the way her voice reverberates against the walls of their apartment.

“You can say that about any of the heads of state,” Jemma says. “How many of them haven’t compromised themselves in their rise to power? I wouldn’t disbelieve the evidence if it all points to Ross, but we need that evidence first!”

Damn it!” Daisy says, stalking off for a moment. “I just want to see some progress here. I don’t like that I’ve been forced out of the action. The same thing has happened to Sam, who’s been grounded because of public opinion.”

“We’ll get these guys,” Jemma says. “We just need to keep pushing forward. This is a huge lead for us; Alex is going to interface with Coulson so that he can continue the investigation on his side. And don’t worry, once we work through these issues you and Sam will be able to join us again.”

Daisy sighs, rubbing her temples.

“I’m tired,” she says. “I’m going to bed.”

With that, Daisy walks off, disappearing into the darkened hallway that leads to their bedroom.

* * *

“Update me on the situation, Mack?” Coulson asks.

“Watch Dogs are attacking the beam,” Mack says. “They’ve gotten their numbers up again and somebody is clearly providing them with weapons and tech.”

“What about the defensive systems already there?” Coulson asks. “Shouldn’t we have some Stark tech stopping them?”

“They took them out with some sort of specialized EMP blast that bypassed the safeguards they had,” Mack says. “It’s a mess. We’re scrambling Quinjets right now and I’m pretty sure that the Avengers are sending someone, but you know how they are. Always gotta be cryptic.”

“Thanks, Mack,” Coulson says. “Keep monitoring the situation; I’m going to call this in to Kryptonia.”

“You got it, boss,” Mack says, before they walk off in different directions.

Coulson heads to their dedicated trans-universal communications room and begins the process to contact the other members of the IFESTB committee. After the security system checks him out and a long period of simply waiting for someone to respond, he’s happy to find that only Alex is currently available.

“Coulson,” Alex says. “What’s going on?”

“Can’t I ever just make a social call?” Coulson asks. “We have a situation unfolding at the beam. The Watch Dogs, are own fun brand of home-grown terrorists, are attacking our side of the beam.”

“Great,” Alex says. “Want me to send someone over?”

“Keep them on standby, for now,” Coulson says. “If we can’t handle the situation, send them through.”

“You got it,” Alex says. “Good luck, Coulson. Stay safe.”

“Thank you, Director,” Coulson says, before terminating the call.

* * *

“Kara,” Alex says. “Head to the beam, use the authorization code for Nordica emergencies. I’m going to give you the green light to travel through if I get the okay from Coulson.”

“Sounds good,” Kara says. “I just finished my first cup of coffee, so I’m feeling super energized.”  

Alex chuckles.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Alex says. “Be ready.”

“Always am,” Kara says.

* * *

“Jesus!” Hunter shouts. “We’re getting pinned down!”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bobbi says, standing unflinchingly as the pillar she’s hiding behind spews out chips of concrete as the Watch Dogs continue to fire on it. “Any ideas?”

“Well, we have five minutes until the Avengers’ special asset gets here,” he says. “My plan is to live that long.”

“Very inspiring,” Bobbi says. “I feel better already.”

She pulls a grenade off of her utility belt, primes it, and holds it in her hand for a moment before tossing it in the direction of the largest mass of the Watch Dogs. The gunfire begins to cease as it’s overtaken by the sound of men yelling, right before the grenade bursts. Bobbi peaks out of cover and begins picking off any of the attackers who couldn’t get behind cover quickly enough.

Just when she’s about to move positions, the sound of hissing surrounds them as a handful of smoke grenades go off at once, obscuring their sightlines completely. She grips her gun tightly and looks around, trying to remember the positions of all of her fellow agents.

“Fall back into the building!” she shouts. “Now!”

“Into the building?” Hunter asks. “Where all of our fancy science equipment is?”

“No choice,” Bobbi says. “I’ll take that over getting shot in all this smoke. Go!”

Hunter sprints off, and once Bobbi is fairly certain that all of the other agents have made it to safety, she follows. They all bunker down in defensible positions and wait for the smoke to dissipate as they listen as carefully as they can for the sounds of movement.

“There are still scientists inside,” Hunter whispers, “We can’t leave them in here.”

“Go and get them and bring them to the beam,” Bobbi says. “I’ll have our asset on the other side bring them to safety.”

“You got it,” Hunter says.

Hunter waits for a beat, making sure the coast is clear, and takes off silently into the depths of the building, heading towards the safe room the researchers have holed themselves inside. With the kind of equipment the Watch Dogs are carrying, they won’t be safe in there for long if the SHIELD agents are to fall. At the same time, Bobbi quickly delivers a message for Coulson to relay to Alex, so that the asset is ready.

* * *

Hunter enters the lengthy security override code to the safe room door and is greeted by one of the researchers brandishing a crowbar at him.

“Whoa, okay, Agent of SHIELD here!” he says, putting his hands up. “We’re going to move you guys to the other side. Follow me, we’re using the beam.”

After a few moments of confusion, the researchers end up following him to the beam itself. The room is completely empty, though, the asset from the other side nowhere to be seen. The chatter of gunfire and the sounds of men yelling cut through the silence, causing a handful of the researchers to jump.

“Damn it,” he mutters. “Where are you?”

* * *

At the same time, after a few moments, Bobbi and the rest of the agents hear the crunch of boots against the debris underfoot. The Watch Dogs are making their final push. She holds up her hand, signaling her fellow agents to hold their positions as long as they can. The sound of footfalls grow louder and louder.

Just as Bobbi is about to give the signal to attack, the Watch Dogs begin to shout, against the backdrop of the firing of their assault rifles. Their smoke grenades clearly have begun to start working against them as the battlefield once again descends into chaos. The cacophony decrescendos stepwise, though, as they seem to be getting picked off one-by-one.

Bobbi grips her ICER more tightly, her ears trained on the action. Otherwise, however, she figures it’s for the best if she and her fellow agents wait and not interfere with whoever the Avengers decided to send as backup.

* * *

After what feels like an eternity, a cheery, blonde woman in a navy and red combat suit, with a red cape falling from her shoulders, steps through the beam. She seems almost comically out of place against the backdrop of the terrorist attack that’s currently happening just a few hallways away.

“Hey guys, I’m going to bring you into Kryptonia for a second,” she says. “Come on, the grass is greener, and all. Oh, I’m Supergirl, by the way, you may have heard about me.”

The researchers all exchange a glance.

“Okay, not important,” Kara says, holding her hands up. “Come on, one at a time. Let’s get you out of here.”

Finally, the researchers form a line and they begin walking through the beam to safety in Kryptonia. Hunter brings up the rear, watching for any Watch Dogs who may have made it through the line of SHIELD agents.

* * *

“Is that everyone?” Kara asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” Hunter says. “They all should’ve been in that safe room.”

“Okay, I trust you,” Kara says. “Just in case, though, let me just…”

She lets her voice trail off as she uses her X-Ray vision to scan the building for any remaining researchers or other such personnel.

“We’re good,” Kara says.

“Man, your powers are so freaky,” Hunter says. “But also, y’know, thanks.”

“My pleasure!” Kara says, beaming. “As much as I like chatting with you, we should go and check on the fight.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Hunter says. “Let’s go.”

The two of them sprint through the Beam Facility until they make it back out to where the SHIELD agents have bunkered down. They get there just in time to watch the remaining smoke begin to get surrounded by distinctive, red energy and dissipated harmlessly into the sky.

Standing alone in the battlefield is Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, completely unchallenged by the Watch Dogs. Wanda breaks out into a bright smile as she sees Kara.

“Hey, Supergirl,” she calls out. “You missed all of the fun.”

“Scarlet Witch,” Kara says. “Hey, I had plenty of fun getting the brave researchers of this facility to safety.”

“Alright, girl scout,” Wanda says, quickly hugging her. “It’s always good knowing you have my back. I imagine you can’t stay for long?”

“No, I’m needed in my universe,” Kara says. “If everything works out with the Peace Talks, though, I’ll be able to visit when you guys aren’t having an emergency.”

“Yeah, that’ll be the day,” Wanda says. “Anyway, it’s been good seeing you.”

“You too!” Kara says. “We’ll be seeing more of one another soon. I know it.”

They hug once more before Kara returns to the beam, needing to return the researchers to their own universe and to report back to Alex.

“Thanks for the assist,” Bobbi says, shaking Wanda’s hand. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Wanda says. “So you’ll never have to worry about that.”

“Just one question, though,” Hunter says. “Where did all of the Watch Dogs go?”

“Oh, I simply used my powers to move them up into the Quinjets circling above,” Wanda says, pointing skyward. “Simple.”

“Right,” Hunter says. “Bobbi, I’m feeling a little out of my depth here.”

“I know, Hunter,” Bobbi sighs.

* * *

“Thanks again for lending us Supergirl for this encounter,” Coulson says. “We all appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Alex says. “She’s always very willing to help.”

“And I’m glad she is,” Coulson says. “With her help, we were able to get through that experience with zero casualties.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alex says.

“However, this situation is quickly destabilizing before our eyes, on both sides,” Coulson says. “I don’t know how long we can continue on like this and expect the Peace Talks to proceed without incident.”

“I agree,” Alex says. “Something, or someone, has emboldened these radical groups beyond anything we’ve seen before. The beams are heavily guarded, and they’re attacking them all the same.”

“Exactly,” Coulson says. “The weapons technology the Watch Dogs – our friendly, home-grown terrorists – had this time was lightyears ahead of anything they’ve had before.”

“We have our suspicions that the group we’re dealing with is being supported and financed by someone big, with plenty of money and connections,” Alex says. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the same was happening over there.”

“We’ll be looking into it,” Coulson says. “Thanks again, Director.”

“Right back at you,” Alex says, before ending the call.

Coulson stands in the communications rooms for a moment, deep in thought, before heading out to the command room of his headquarters. Wanda has long since left, her responsibilities ending after she successfully delivered their many, many prisoners to SHIELD holding cells. This leaves what has become the main core of the SHIELD team following Daisy and Jemma’s departure – Mack, May, Bobbi, Hunter, Fitz, Yo-Yo, and Piper.

“Have all the prisoners been secured?” Coulson asks.

“Yes, sir,” Mack says. “Questioning is about to begin, if you want to watch.”

“I’m ready to be real mean to these guys,” May says. “Sir.”

“I like the enthusiasm,” Coulson says. “Who’s doing the report on damage to the beam facility? How are we looking there?”

“I’ll draft up a preliminary report and get that to you,” Bobbi says. “Most of the damage was done to the exterior of the building, rather than to any of the valuable equipment inside.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Coulson says. “I need something good to tell the committee.”

* * *

“This is exactly what I was worried about,” Ross says. “That copycat groups would form in our universe in retaliation to the violence perpetrated by these ‘Last Patriots.’ Public safety continues to be compromised because of these beams.”

“In fairness, the Watch Dogs, the group who carried out this latest attack, have existed for years before this,” Coulson says. “Similar to the Last Patriots, they initially formed as an anti-Inhuman and anti-alien extremist reactionary group, and only as of late have they including anti-beam-immigration rhetoric into their ideology.”

“The point remains that the beam has invited violence from groups on both side,” Ross says. “I don’t see how we can hold the Peace Talks in this political climate.”

“I believe that in the face of a challenge like this, we must rise up to face that challenge,” Marsden says. “We must hold the Talks, or we signal to these groups that they’ve won! Even if you oppose movement between our worlds, Mr. Secretary, you have to remember that the purpose of this committee isn’t to litigate that topic but to make sure we can set the stage for the Peace Talks.”

If she could, Lena would cheer President Marsden on. There’s little surprise as to why she won the election – not only are her oratory skills top-notch, but her values and political beliefs are excellent as well.

“That task is becoming more and more impossible as time goes on,” Ross says. “These movements opposing the beams are only going to grow, and I suggest that we both take some time to sort out our own messes before moving forward.”

“What are you suggesting?” Marsden asks.

“I’m saying that we need to figure out who’s behind these attacks,” Ross says. “Otherwise, I have orders from my superiors to pull out of the Peace Talks if this situation is not resolved.”

Lena rubs her temples in response. This is one way to make a bad situation worse; Alex is going to be furious about this, too.

“What?” Marsden asks. “Why is this the first time we’re hearing about this?”

“I’m thinking the same thing,” Alex says. “Also, I’m glad that the good people in Nordica have maneuvered the politics so that everything rests on the shoulders of my investigation.”

“I’ve only recently been told this,” Ross says. “My hands are tied, ladies and gentleman. The officials at Nordica need to see some results, or we’ll receive the beam issue however we see fit.”

“Well, this is a bombshell you’ve just dropped on us,” Marsden says. “You can’t expect us to agree to these terms.”

“I’m not asking you to agree to anything,” Ross says. “I’m telling you what has been told to me.”

Lena leans forward and scribbles a few notes down. This is the first time that Ross has so directly referenced the higher-ups he’s required to answer to. Either he’s using that to deflect blame from himself, or his superiors really are leaning on him more and more. Whatever the case may be, there’s no way she’s letting this rhetorical shift pass her by.

“This is the nuclear option we specifically wanted to avoid,” Lena says. “The whole point of this committee was to make sure one side didn’t simply make a decision and force the other to live with it.”

“The calculus changes when violence begins to spill over to our side,” Ross says. “I’m not saying that any of us have to be happy with this, but this is what’s now hanging over all our heads. What choice do we have, since you haven’t solved this case regarding the Last Patriots and you haven’t come to a decision about Daisy Johnson?”

With that, Ross cuts off his connection, leaving the rest of them stunned in his wake. Lean leans back in her chair before walking over to her drinks cart and pouring herself a glass of sparkling water, wishing now she hadn’t told Jess to remove all of the alcohol from her office.

“Lena, I want to talk to you alone,” Marsden says. “The rest of you can disconnect.”

* * *

“Damn it!” Alex shouts, hurling her pen and notepad across the room.

She immediately feels extremely foolish, and walks over to pick them up. She takes a deep breath and smooths her hair back before stepping out of the soundproofed communications room and out into the hallway, where there thankfully aren’t any DEO agents hanging around. She makes her way to the lab, where they’re currently storing and monitoring the strange trans-universal communications device they picked up from the Last Patriots base.

Alex checks the logs to see that absolutely nothing has happened – there haven’t been any incoming messages. That red light has remained, tauntingly, completely inert this entire time.

She leans against one of the nearby workbenches, squeezing onto its edge tightly to prevent from chucking something considerably more expensive than her pen and notepad across the room. None of the chips have been falling their way as of late – the central leadership of the Last Patriots is still at large, Sam is still being criticized by the press, Daisy has been completely taken out of commission as the politicians squabble over her, and now her counterparts at SHIELD are under scrutiny as violence has erupted on their side.

* * *

“You have a demonstration ready for me?” Ross asks.

“I do,” the project lead says. “We’ve been in the testing stages for days, in fact. This will be this operative’s fifth time in the suit.”

The project lead gestures to the large windows overlooking the well-lit, enclosed, concrete testing space, and the two of them walk over to peer through them. He then leans forward and turns on the mic to communicate with the operative, who stands at attention.

“Let’s show Secretary Ross what we’ve done,” he says.

The operative nods and readies himself, his thumb hovering over an unseen button in the palm of his glove. The suit he’s in is sleek and futuristic, covering every inch of his body in angular, bleeding-edge materials, certainly a far cry from even the modern body armor he once wore in the Marines.

“Activating diagnostics sensors,” the project lead says. “Sealing room. Beginning the record.”

He clears his throat and exhales audibly.

“Okay, initiate the suit in five, four, three, two, one.”

With that, the operative presses down on the palm button. A few moments pass.

“It seems as if your testing hasn’t…” Ross begins to say.

He’s immediately distracted by a brief flash of light blazing out from the testing space. He winces and covers his eyes, and when he looks back down again, the operative has completely disappeared.

“My god,” Ross says, beneath his breath.

“And he should be back right about…” the lead researcher says, his voice trailing off.

There’s another flash of light, and the operative is back, right where he once was. A total silence falls upon the facility.

“You did it,” Ross says simply. “I can’t say that I’m not impressed.”

He offers his hand for the project lead to shake, who does so enthusiastically.

“We’ve been working hard down here, but once we figured out the basic design for the suit it’s gone very smoothly,” he says. “Things do get easier when so many wheels are getting greased by the deep pockets of our defense budget.”

“Of course,” Ross says. “I want ten suits built for field use by the end of the week, to the specifications of the men I’ve selected.”

The project lead pauses for a moment, but only for a moment.

“Of course, our fabrication team will get on that immediately,” he says. “Always a pleasure.”

“It is,” Ross says, shaking his hand once more.

* * *

“How do I look?” Daisy asks.

She’s dressed in a sharp, carefully-fitted charcoal suit, sans tie but finished off with a pair of pebble-grain oxford shoes. Her hair has been carefully slicked back in an attempt to make her undercut as professional as it can possibly be. She slowly spins in place, letting Jemma inspect her while she also checks herself out in the full-length mirror in their bedroom.

“You look great,” Jemma says. “Very professional.”

“You do look good,” Sam says, poking her head through the doorframe. “How about me?”

Sam, on the other hand, is dressed in a shawl lapel suit of a deep maroon color, so dark that it would appear black in certain lighting. She also has on a skinny black tie and a pair of shiny leather Chelsea boots.

“You look ready to walk a runway,” Jemma says. “That color looks good on you.” 

“You look like you’re going to an exclusive club and order a martini at the bar, only to take down an international supervillain just a few hours later,” Daisy says.

“I’ll take both of those compliments,” Sam says, grinning.

“Is anyone else nervous?” Daisy asks. “I know we’re just having a video call with the president, but we’re having a video call with the president! This is insane. I’ve protested presidents before but I’ve never actually met one.”

“I’ve met President Marsden before, at a charity banquet,” Sam says. “She’s tough but very nice. We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Daisy says. “I can’t help but be worried about this. We’re going to be discussing the ‘tension between the two worlds,’ which doesn’t seem to bode well for us.”

“I’m not going to be worried unless she tells us something really bad,” Sam says. “C’mon, Daisy, you’ve fought off hordes of Daxamites. You can talk to the president.”

“I just don’t like politics at this level,” Daisy says. “I’m more of a protest-on-the-street type of girl.”

“Yes, you’re a real woman of the people,” Jemma says. “Are you two ready? I’d hate for you to be late for this.”

Sam checks her watch and nods.

“Let’s get going,” Sam says. “I’m sure Lena is waiting for us.”

Before they leave, Daisy quickly kisses Jemma on the lips.

“You’ll do great, darling,” Jemma says. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks,” Daisy says. “I sure hope you’re right.”

“When am I ever not?” Jemma asks, a cheeky grin on her face.

Daisy smiles back at her before she and Sam step into their private elevator, which whisks them down to the first floor.

* * *

There’s an all-black luxury sedan with dark, tinted windows waiting for Sam and Daisy just outside the building. The driver is leaning against the perfectly polished passenger-side doors of the car, mean-mugging any passersby whose gaze is drawn by the admittedly unusual sight for two long. He opens the door for the two of them as they approach, and they climb into to find Lena waiting there for them, wearing a sleek dress and a pair of dark sunglasses.

“Lena,” Daisy greets. “Looking sharp.”

“Thank you,” she says. “You both look about ready to speak to a head of state. Let’s get going.”

With that, the driver takes off, the car smoothly gliding through the streets of National City. Daisy peers out of the windows, her brow furrowed.

“I thought we were just taking this call at the L-Corp tower,” she says. “Where are we headed?”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Lena says.

Daisy continues to watch the scenery change around as they make their way to the outskirts of the city, closer to the long stretch of beach. They find themselves on a long, solitary road, the beach on one side and rolling hills on the other. Sam and Daisy exchange a glance.

“Oh, don’t worry, you two,” Lena says. “This is kind of exciting, don’t you think?”

Finally, as the car continues to fly down the road, one of National City’s military bases comes into view, all harsh edges and concrete construction through the soft haze of the midday sun and the spray of the ocean around it. The car rolls to a stop in front of the base’s main gate, where a handful of guards check and double-check their security clearance. After a long wait, a buzzer sounds and the gate slowly begins to roll open, and they drive through the compound. The luxury sedan turns all heads, and Daisy suddenly feels very thankful that the windows are so heavily tinted.

They make one turn and then another, and suddenly they’re driving down the base’s airstrip. Amongst the various cargo planes is a sleek private jet that seems almost as out of place amongst its surroundings as their car does.

They stop about a hundred feet away from the private jet, at which point a team of men wearing suits and earpieces jog over to their car. They ask everyone to step out of the car and do an extremely thorough job of checking not only the vehicle, but checking everyone’s IDs, going through pockets, patting down jackets, and once again making sure their security clearances are legitimate. Finally, they lead them to the private jet, whose door hisses open as they approach.

Another man in a suit leads them through the luxurious interior of the plane to about its midway point, where they reach a section that can serve as a sort of conference room. Sitting in one of the tan, leather chairs is President Marsden herself.

“Oh boy,” Daisy says beneath her breath.

Marsden stands up, a smile on her face.

“Thank you for meeting me here on such short notice,” she says. “And I apologize for all of the secrecy. That’s just the world we live in right now.”

She then shakes everyone’s hands. Daisy can feel her heartbeat spike.

“So, please, sit,” she says, gesturing at the chairs around her. “Would you like anything to drink? Eat?”

Daisy suddenly feels even more out of place than she did just moments prior; the idea of telling the president that she wants a glass of water seems exceedingly silly.

“I’m sure everyone could use some water,” Lena says.

“Of course,” Marsden says, turning to the man in the suit who led them inside. “Do you mind?”

He nods and steps away for a moment, before returning with four glasses of water.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why I called this meeting,” Marsden says. “There are a handful of reasons. The first is that I like to know the heroes who are out there protecting this great nation of ours.”

“Well, we’re honored to be here, Mrs. President,” Sam says, before glancing over at Daisy.

Daisy, who feels in a daze, nearly flinches when she realizes that everyone is looking at her.

“Oh, yes, very honored,” Daisy says. “Surprised and, ah, humbled.”

“Please, it humbles me to be in your presence. You two have down so much for National City, and the world entire,” Marsden says. “I’ve been following your exploits the best I can, both from the news and social media and from what your friend Director Danvers tells me in her reports. Quake and Blackbird. Quite a duo.”

“We’re just happy to help,” Sam says. “Having powers as we do – it’s quite a responsibility.”

“I imagine that it is,” Marsden says. “And that’s why you’re both here today: to discuss your powers and to talk about that responsibility.”

Marsden drums her fingers against her glass of water for a moment before continuing on.

“As you may have already heard from Director Danvers, you’ve been the focus of some scrutiny from the IFESTB committee,” she says. “Secretary Ross, who I know you’re familiar with, believes that you pose a threat to the security of both worlds and to the upcoming Peace Talks.”

Daisy opens her mouth, ready to protest that thought, but Marsden simply holds up her hand. She falls silent for the time being.

“I don’t necessarily agree with this stance, but we are treading into dangerous waters with our sister universe,” Marsden says. “I know that you’ve already been stripped of your former status as a DEO consultant. But, given the circumstances, we’re asking you to not engage in public events as you have in the past and try and remain within your home. At least until the Peace Talks.”

The sound seems to completely drop out of the plane in that moment. Daisy stares at her for a moment, dumbfounded.

“Wait, what?” she blurts out. “Are you putting me under house arrest?”

“Yes,” Marsden says plainly. “I understand that this isn’t an ideal situation, but this is what our discussions have come to.”

Marsden sighs, and for a moment, Daisy feels like she can look past the façade of professionalism and presidential airs and see the tired, yet determined woman beneath it all.

“I – well, I can’t exactly say no, can I?” Daisy asks.

“Not without further complicating our position,” Marsden says. “Several officials in Nordica have themselves convinced that you are their greatest threat, given your ability to move between worlds at will. I think you represent the best of us – in so many ways, you’re already of two worlds, a treasured member of many communities. But to people like Ross, you’re just a threat. And I’m sorry, but for now, this is the only solution that we have.”

“So, I just stay in my apartment all of the time?” Daisy asks. “Does this work on the honor system?”

“We’ll have you wear an ankle bracelet,” Lena says.

Daisy stares down at her feet for a moment.

“If I ‘represent the best of us,’ then why am I not allowed to demonstrate that?” Daisy asks. “Especially as we approach the eleventh hour?”

Marsden and Lena exchange a glance, perhaps expecting this very thing to happen.

“I can’t help but speak up on Daisy’s behalf,” Sam says. “I can’t help but see this as a miscalculation. If we kowtow to the demands of Nordica now, what else will they ask for in the future?”

“Trust me, I absolutely understand your concerns,” Marsden says. “It was a long conversation we had that led us to this conclusion, and we’ve had plenty of disagreements along the way. However, we must sometimes make concessions to Nordica in order to achieve the greater goal of peace between our worlds and of open movement and integration between us.”

“Ross is also an anti-Inhuman bigot and a war hawk, despite whatever lip service he might give to peace,” Daisy says. “The idea that he’s dictating our course of action on anything is, frankly, frustrating.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Daisy can see a slight grin flit across Lena’s face. She had figured that, sooner or later, Daisy’s discomfort over being thrust into this situation would fade and she would then start to just speak her mind. Daisy’s just proud of herself for merely calling the situation ‘frustrating.’

“Daisy, I flew across the country to speak with you and Sam because I respect you and what you stand for,” Marsden says. “I absolutely don’t blame you for feeling this way. However, we just need to get to these Peace Talks. I can’t imagine what would happen if we weren’t able to come with some sort of deal with Nordica. That’s why this is happening.”

Daisy leans back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. Between her sharp suit, athletic build, and the harsh lines of her undercut, she cuts an intimidating figure.

“Fine,” she says, finally. “I’ll do it. I just want to let you know that I disapprove of Ross and everything he represents.”

“And I fully understand that,” Marsden says. “We all appreciate you doing this, Daisy. The Peace Talks, for better or worse, are more important that any one of us. We have to do what we can in order to make sure they actually happen.”

Daisy simply nods. Everyone is silent for a beat.

“Now, onto the next item I wanted to discuss,” Marsden says, turning to Sam. “Sam, I know you’re tough, so I won’t mince words with you. Your public image has taken some hits lately. I of course don’t agree with that, but that’s the reality we’re in now.”

“I agree,” Sam says. “I’ve been working with CatCo Media to attempt some image rehabilitation, but that process can be difficult.”

“I understand,” Marsden says. “Because of this, we’re taking you off our security team for the Peace Talks as of now.”

Sam’s face remains impassive, but Daisy can see her clenching her fists. It may not look like much, given she’s wearing a suit and in a very professional situation, but Daisy also knows that she could probably crush a cannonball into the size of a marble without even trying at this point.

“That’s fine,” Sam says. “I can see where this decision is coming from.”

“Thank you,” Marsden says. “You’ve been through a lot, Sam, and I know you’ll bounce back from this.”

Sam just nods, her jaw set in a tight line.

“Well, thank you so much for meeting me out here, especially on such short notice,” Marsden says, clapping her hands together. “My office will contact you through our official channels if anything changes, but with the way things are shaping up, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

Marsden stands up, offering her hand for them to shake. Perhaps sensing the reluctance in her friends, Lena does so first, followed by Sam and finally Daisy, who does so with maybe too much intensity, though Marsden doesn’t even flinch. The same man in the suit leads them out of the plane and back to Lena’s waiting car.

“Well, that was awful,” Daisy says, once they’re off the base. “The President just put me under house arrest. This is insane.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you about what would happen,” Lena says. “The rest of the committee asked me not to discuss any of this with you.”

“I don’t like that decisions are being made about me without my input,” Daisy says. “And they didn’t want you to tell me? What, did they think that I was a flight risk?”

“Ross certainly did,” Lena says. “Look, this is temporary. Once the Talks happen, the committee will be dissolved. Things will go back to normal.”

“I understand that,” Daisy says. “This is just humiliating. I have to stay at home with a tracker around my ankle like I’m some sort of criminal. I haven’t done anything wrong; it’s just politically convenient for me to be out of the picture.”

“Daisy, think of all that is going into the Peace Talks,” Lena says. “We’re bringing two whole worlds together. Teams of researchers are working around the clock to understand the beams, using equipment we had to invent just for this. This is not only going to change the face of National City, but the world entire. This is bigger than any of us.”

“I realize that, it just seems like Ross has been able to lean against the other committee members to get what he wants,” Daisy says. “It certainly doesn’t seem bigger than him.”

“Then that’s his failing,” Lena says. “We have to work with what we’ve been given, and for one reason or another, Nordica has chosen Ross as their representative. We all have to deal with that.”

“This is infuriating,” Daisy says.

“I still think that this is poor negotiating,” Sam says. “As I said earlier.”

“This is a compromise,” Lena says. “Ross wanted to bring Daisy back to Nordica and put her on the Raft.”

“What?” Daisy asks, leaning forward in her seat. “That’s certifiably insane. There’s no way that’s even remotely legal.”

“We’re operating in uncharted waters here,” Lena says. 

“That can’t be a good enough reason,” Sam says. “Just because Ross doesn’t know how to handle Daisy and her powers shouldn’t mean we start extra-judicially throwing people in prison.”

“And we haven’t,” Lena says. “We talked him into the current deal.”

“Was I a part of these negotiations as well?” Sam asks.

“No, that was President Marsden’s idea,” Lena says. “Everything she does is for the success of these Talks.”

“Yes, that seems to be the theme of the day,” Daisy says.

* * *

Alex is waiting for them as they pull up outside of Daisy’s apartment building, a nondescript, black case tucked beneath her arm. She raises an eyebrow as she sees everyone’s dour expressions, but says nothing. They head up to the penthouse as the car whisks Sam and Lena away.

“I have your ankle bracelet here with me,” Alex says, as they walk inside. “I’ll have to personally verify that it’s been placed correctly, because this is what my life has turned into now, I guess.”

Daisy sighs and sits down on her couch, kicking off her socks and shoes so that they can begin the embarrassing ritual of placing the ankle tracker on someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.

Alex kneels down and locks the sleek, metal bracelet around Daisy’s ankle. It beeps as it activates and a light turns on, indicating that it’s sending and receiving signals. Daisy looks down at it, hardly believing that this small piece of tech is tethering her to her house for the foreseeable future.

“I know it doesn’t count for much, but I think this is stupid too,” Alex says. “I already stripped you of your DEO clearance and took you off all of our ongoing investigations. This seems pointless.”

“I guess Ross doesn’t want me hopping over to his world and punching him in the face,” Daisy says.

Alex chuckles dryly.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” she says. “Well, you’re all set. I’d stay here and keep you company, but I can’t seem to leave HQ for too long or everything falls apart.”

“No, I understand,” Daisy says. “Jemma should be home soon anyway.”

“Alright,” Alex says. “Again, I’m really sorry this is happening to you. I knew Ross would angle for something like this if he found out about your powers. Maybe I shouldn’t have included you in so much DEO activity, this could’ve been different.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s my fault,” Daisy says. “I was the one who used my powers out in the open, even though I knew I was supposed to be keeping that a secret.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have kept that a secret to begin with,” Alex says. “I don’t know. Text any of us if you need anything.”

“I will,” Daisy says. “Thanks, Alex.”

Alex pats her on the shoulder before standing up and heading out of the penthouse, leaving Daisy there by herself. She exhales slowly and wriggles out of her jacket before undoing the buttons of her shirt, leaving it hanging open and exposing the tank top she’s wearing underneath. A few silent moments pass, the stillness of the large, airy penthouse more apparent than ever, until she stands up and walks out onto the deck. She rolls the legs of her pants up and sits at the edge of the pool, delicately sliding her feet into the water.

The sun has passed its apex in the sky but is still burning up the city and the coolness of the water is a welcome respite. She stares down at the water, the hypnotic way the water ripples away from her legs and flashes white from the sun, casting parallax shadows on the bottom. Though they’ve used the pool for other reasons since, she can’t help but think back on the time she was so desperately trying to master her powers in an attempt to get back home. Jemma had tasked her to sense the molecules in the water with her powers, hoping this would one day allow her to stabilize the vibrations between their two universes in order to travel between them.

Now, she can do just that. With her hand outstretched, she manipulates a small area of the water with her powers, turning it into steam. Once it rises high enough, she turns it back into water, and she watches it as it drips back down into the pool, creating small ripples in their wake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love feedback! Comments, kudos, whatever! 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)


	7. Know Your Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! To anyone keeping up with this story, thank you so much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos and whatnot! You're all the best!!!

Daisy whittles the time away on this otherwise beautiful Saturday in much the same fashion. At one point, she tries to work on the Last Patriots case, since she had downloaded all of the case files she could get her hands on at Alex’s implicit instruction, but she can’t find the motivation within herself. At one point she wonders why the Last Patriots haven’t attacked in the last handful of days, and with a miserable sinking feeling in her gut, she realizes that they may have already accomplished everything that they set out to do. They’ve bombed both the beam and the location for the Peace Talks, they managed to kidnap the mayor beneath everyone’s noses, and they even attacked the march designed specifically to protest them.

It’s a disquieting thought, especially since they still have no idea who their leaders are or if they are getting instructions from someone prominent, as Daisy suspects. To distract herself from this, she heads into the kitchen and starts making herself a cocktail as the door opens, a tired Jemma walking in.

Daisy can’t prevent the smile that spreads across her face when she sees her.

“Daisy,” Jemma greets. “How did it go?”

“Oh, terribly,” she answers, showing off her ankle with its new accessory. “How’s work coming along?”

“Work is fine. Busy,” Jemma says. “I have so many questions.”

“Well, let me make you a cocktail and I’ll explain it all to you,” Daisy says.

They take their drinks out onto the deck and Daisy explains her entire meeting with the President, as Jemma listens in rapt attention. She leaves no detail out, especially any about how she feels, and once she’s done telling the story Jemma looks about ready to rip the ankle bracelet off and chuck it at President Marsden herself.

“So, that’s it. House arrest,” Daisy says, taking a sip of her drink. “A pretty sorry tale.”

“I’ll say,” Jemma says. “This can’t be okay. I understand that they want to deal with Nordica, but this is ridiculous. You’re a private citizen now, they can’t do this to you.”

“Apparently, they can,” Daisy says.

She sighs, staring out at the cityscape for a moment before returning her gaze to Jemma.

“Hey, I know this all sucks,” Daisy says. “But, I wanted to apologize for acting so moody lately. And especially the other night. I can’t just come home and vent my frustrations at you; that’s not fair.”

Jemma smiles kindly at her.

“I understand,” she says. “This has been a tough time for all of us, myself included. What kind of couple would we be if we couldn’t talk things like this out? I do want to say, though, that I’m not going to agree with you on everything, and that’s just going to happen.”

“I know,” Daisy says. “And maybe I am jumping the gun. You’re right – we don’t have any direct evidence that Ross is involved. I just can’t shake the feeling that he is.”

“And that’s fine,” Jemma says. “We just have to talk about all of this. And not let this insane political climate bring us down too much.” 

Daisy chuckles.

“I definitely agree with that,” she says. “And speaking of not letting current circumstances bringing us down, how about we get something good for dinner tonight?”

“I hate to interrupt this very cute moment, but I might be able to help with that.”

They both turn around to see Kara touch down on their deck, her cape fluttering behind her and her arms laden with bags of takeout.

“Alex told me about what happened and I couldn’t leave you here without food!” Kara says.

She dumps all of the food, which smells overwhelmingly delicious, onto the table in front of them.

“You know there are, like, fifty delivery apps out there, right?” Daisy asks. “I wouldn’t have starved by myself here.”

“Yeah, but c’mon,” Kara says. “I’m clearly the best delivery service around.”

“This is very nice of you, Kara,” Jemma says. “Thank you. What did you get us?”

“Hawaiian food!” Kara says. “One of my coworkers at CatCo showed me this place. I figured some comfort food might be in order.”

Kara opens up container after container, revealing piles of spam musubi, shoyu chicken, beef stew, chicken katsu, and more, accompanied by generous piles of steaming white rice and mac salad. Daisy feels her stomach grumble – amongst all of the chaos, she can’t remember the last time she’s indulged like this.

“Kara, this is so much food,” Jemma says. “I’m not complaining, but you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Kara says. “And, besides, I’m joining you guys for dinner. I was on patrol since I left work; you know how hungry flying makes me.”

Perhaps to accentuate her point, Kara snaps open a pair of chopsticks and begins shoveling rice into her mouth.

“I guess we’re really doing this family style,” Daisy says. “Nobody is sick, right?”

“I promise that I washed my hands really well after leaving the lab,” Jemma says.

“I’m sure the bacteria you’re researching are completely safe,” Daisy says, grinning.  

“So,” Kara says, around a mouthful of food. “I feel like I haven’t seen a lot of you guys lately.”

“We have all been distracted by everything that’s been happening,” Jemma says. “I know that Alex has been working you hard, too.”

“It’s not really Alex, I volunteered to patrol as much as I do,” Kara says. “I can’t allow another attack to happen in this city. I just can’t. And now that apparently everyone has decided that they don’t like Sam anymore, I’m the one everyone looks to.”

“And I definitely can’t help out now, too,” Daisy says.

“True. But, I’m used to this,” Kara says. “I started out as a solo act, and I can go back to that if my city needs me.”

“Just make sure you don’t get burnt out,” Jemma says. “Between work and patrolling, you’re not leaving a lot of time for yourself.”

“I know,” Kara says. “This is probably the longest break I’ve taken in a while. Besides sleeping, I guess, which I’ve been doing exclusively under sun lamps to make sure I have enough energy the next day. Do you think everyone else has been driven this crazy by the upcoming Peace Talks?”

“I’d say we all clearly have,” Daisy says. “I mean, look at this stupid thing.”

She rests her foot against the edge of her table, showing off her new ankle tracker.

“I can’t believe it,” Kara says. “I could snap that thing off for you right now, if you’d like.”

“And I could dissolve it, but that would probably send off a billion alarms for whoever’s watching me,” Daisy says. “Believe me; I don’t want to be in this thing.”

“Well, I can definitely see why you hate Ross,” Kara says. “He really seems like a jerk.”

Daisy laughs.

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Daisy says. “I have to look for silver linings, though. He won’t be in power forever. Since he’s super old.”

Jemma snorts, nearly losing her mouthful of food, while Kara looks scandalized.

“Daisy!” Kara says. “Don’t make fun of his age!”

“You just called him a jerk!” Daisy says. “He’s an old jerk!”

“Still,” Kara says. “The aging population is a treasured part of our society.”

Daisy just laughs.

“I’m just going to pivot away from all of this,” Jemma says. “Have you heard from Astra lately? It might be worth bringing her back.”

“I haven’t, but I know how to contact her,” Kara says. “She gave me a Kryptonian communications device and told me not to tell the DEO about it because she doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” Daisy says. “It might be time to call her up. We could always use another scary Kryptonian dressed in all black.”

“Do you guys think I should get a black suit?” Kara asks.

Jemma and Daisy exchange a glance.

“I’d stick with the blue and red,” Daisy says.

“Yeah, it suits you perfectly,” Jemma says.

* * *

The next Monday, Daisy finds herself alone in their penthouse apartment.

She had woken up with Jemma out of habit and they enjoyed their breakfast out on the patio, soaking in the first early-morning rays of the sunrise. A certain uneasy peace has fallen over National City, and that was almost palpable as they watched the sun slowly light up the towering buildings of downtown. How much violence had already made its way to those streets? And how much more would come?

Eventually, Jemma had to go off to work, leaving Daisy by herself in the apartment. She finds that she doesn’t much know what to do with herself – it’s been such a long time since she was simply left to her own devices like this.

Daisy simply wanders around the penthouse at first, straightening up some laundry or rifling through her and Jemma’s collected knickknacks just so she can do something with her hands. As she’s moving through her home, with its white walls and warm woods and clean, comforting lines, she figures she needs to send Lena a gift basket or something, since this is probably the nicest place imaginable to be stuck in for a house arrest. The sun has ascended fully above the horizon, filling the space with delightful warmth.

She heads into the kitchen next, figuring that she might as well take advantage of this strictly enforced vacation. Lena, in all of her generosity, gifted them all of the alcohol and associated accoutrements she had originally left here, which Daisy and Jemma have been taking advantage of. She pulls an ice bucket out from the pantry, fills it up, and places one of Lena’s comically expensive bottles of champagne into it. After it’s appropriately chilled, she whips up a mimosa from herself and takes it out onto the deck, enjoying the fresh air.

“Yeah, take that, Ross,” Daisy says, pantomiming clinking glasses with the politician.

She finishes the drink quickly and makes herself another, her Inhuman physiology allowing her to metabolize the alcohol like it’s nothing. This time, though, she takes her laptop out with her, figuring she can poke through the Last Patriots case files while she’s at home. She’s always thankful that Alex seems to be more like Coulson that what first impressions may have suggested, and her frustration with the constantly evolving political situation seems deeply warranted.

As she quickly flicks through the case files to reorient herself with what information they currently has, she figures she should focus on the strange trans-universal communicator they found, which almost seems more like a pager than anything else. This seems like their most vital piece of evidence so far – especially since it’s the only connection between the Last Patriots and Universe Nordica. If someone in Nordica really is using the Last Patriots to destabilize National City and Kryptonia, by extension, then this will be the scandal of the century. Especially if it turns out that a government official from Nordica is the one in contact with the Last Patriots. Daisy still thinks that it’s Ross.

The problem with this line of query is, of course, that Daisy doesn’t have any direct access to the communicator here at home. Thankfully, the DEO techs have done an extremely thorough breakdown of it, producing pages and pages of blueprints, materials reports, testing data, and more. She reads through everything until she has a headache and realizes that nearly all of the shadows have melted away. It’s almost noon. As she pulls herself away from her work she begins to realize just how hungry she is, so she puts her work on pause and heats up the leftovers from last night, her thoughts turning to Kara. At one point, she really did think that the beam would just allow her and Jemma to spend more time with their new friends. How wrong they were.

One thing that Lena didn’t have in her impressive alcohol collection is the cheap, genuinely awful light beer that Daisy enjoys so much, but she’s able to find a couple bottles she had bought stashed in the very back of the fridge. She grabs one, pops it open with a casual flick of her thumb, and carries it and her leftovers out onto the deck.

She drags one of the deck hairs to the glass fence that separates her from an inglorious fall to the concrete thirty levels down, rests her feet up against that partition, and sets her plate of food on her lap. Her beer is set down on the sleek wood paneling of the deck, sweating upon it. She chews her food thoughtfully, turning over the details of the case in her mind. One attack on the Beam itself. Another on the Convention Center. A successful and completely un-reported kidnapping of the mayor. A perfectly coordinated attack on the Solidarity March, with collaboration from the police. And then, nothing. They’ve seemed to disappear from public view entirely, right as law enforcement finally began to make progress.

Daisy looks down and realizes she’s finished all of her food and her bottle of beer. She grabs another out of the fridge, pops it open, and gets back to work.

As she’s staring at one of the blueprints for the communicator, she remembers the Fitz used a program back at SHIELD to digitally reconstruct basically any piece of technology if you input any sort of schematics – and with all of the documentation that the DEO techs came up with, the program should be able to almost perfectly replicate the communicator. She’s hoping, like everyone at the DEO, that there’s a way to somehow reverse-engineer where the messages are coming from. Sadly, though, her laptop doesn’t have enough juice to actually run the program, so she has to leave the warmth and fresh air of the deck to use her desktop computer (her very first purchase with her first L-Corp paycheck.)  

She heads into the second bedroom, which she and Jemma have transformed into a home office, and boots up her computer. She gets the program up and running and feeds all of the blueprints of the communicator into it and lets it get to work.

“Render time, one hour,” Daisy says to herself. “Great.”

She groans, and after milling about for a bit, she changes into one of her swimsuits and dives into the pool, the best escape from the afternoon heat. She swims laps until her arms and legs burn, her enhanced strength allowing her to go from end-to-end in record time. Finally, once the sun has seemed to move an appropriate distance across the blue sky, Daisy floats there on her back. Between the blue sky and the way the pool seems to capture that same color perfectly, it feels as if she is floating in mid-air, the lapping of the water at her ears her one tether to reality. 

She feels perfectly at stasis here, between the sky and the water, floating as if between worlds. It’s strange that she feels such a push and pull with both worlds, both places she’s called home.

Back in Nordica, she felt rejected and forgotten her entire life, moving from foster home to foster home and then existing completely transiently in her van and uncovering government secrets until, of course, SHIELD picked her up and gave her a whole new family. SHIELD introduced her to Jemma, too, and there was no way her life would be the same after that. At the same time, though, her universe would vilify her, perhaps hating the many identities she can call her own. Inhuman. Bisexual. Chinese, but only half. And so many other on top of those. Ross, in particular, seems hell-bent on denying her tearing down her Inhuman heritage, and has no doubt supported policies that would vilify and police her many other identities, too.

And then, of course, there’s Kryptonia, the place she currently calls home. Daisy remembers feeling right at home here almost right away, enveloped by the warmth of Kara and the sunny, cheery nature of National City. Lena, Sam, and even Alex were quick to become friends as well, perhaps reflecting the seeming kindness of this place. It wasn’t always easy, of course, not with Maxwell Lord and the Daxamites running about, and now with the Last Patriots the situation has become even more dire. Still, though, National City has welcomed her with open arms like no other city ever has, and if there were ever a place she’d want to make some sort of existential stand for, it would be this one.

With that, she pulls herself up out of the pool, quickly towels off, and heads directly into the shower. As the warm water cascades down her body, she’s turning over the trans-universal communicator in her mind, trying to determine the best way to approach this thing. She’s been staring at the schematics for so long that she feels that she knows almost every wire, screw, transistor, and every other tiny bit of electronics in the thing.

She misses Jemma already.

She turns the water off and steps out of the shower, quickly toweling off and pulling some clothes on. Her hair is still dripping wet as she checks in on the simulation program on her computer – it’s done rendering the trans-universal communicator, though, so now her work can really begin. She starts off by getting a sense for the inner workings of the communicator first, simulating the way it would receive a message in Morse code from the other universe. It’s not a perfect science, since the Beam researchers are still working around the clock to figure out just how a stable bridge between universes even works, but it’s enough for her to at least begin to understand how this all works.

She groans, resting her chin against her upturned palm. This is a little beyond her – she doesn’t exactly have a degree in physics like Fitz does. And there’s no contacting him now, not under the rules of house arrest and because all calls between universes are so heavily monitored.

* * *

“Daisy. Hey, Daisy.”

“Daisy!”

She bolts straight up, jostled awake by someone shaking her shoulder and the smell of food wafting about her. Jemma is hovering over her, amused.

“Oh man, what time is it?” Daisy asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Seven-thirty, my dear,” Jemma says, amused. “I brought dinner; I figured that would perk you up.”

Jemma deposits a greasy bomb of a burger in a humble paper wrapper and a bag of fries in front of Daisy.

“This looks amazing,” Daisy says. “How was work?”

“Oh, it was fine,” Jemma says, leaning against the desk. “I finally managed to have lunch with Lena.”

“That’s great,” Daisy says. “I’m sure she’s not getting any less busy.”

“No, she’s not,” Jemma says. “We had to take our lunch up in her office since she didn’t want to be too far away from her phone.”

“Sheesh, poor thing,” Daisy says. “Well, I’m sure you ate something good.”

“Of course,” Jemma says. “Lena managed to get that new French restaurant to deliver, and they do not deliver.”

Daisy chuckles.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” she says.

“I see you’ve managed to keep busy, though,” Jemma says, nodding her head towards the computer monitor.

“Oh, yeah, I’m trying to crack this stupid Last Patriots case,” Daisy says, around a mouthful of burger. “I’ve got this simulation of the communicator up and running and I’ve been trying to think of ways to use it to figure out where the signals originate.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I wish I could help you more,” Jemma says. “Mechanical engineering was never quite my forte.”

“It’s not mine, either,” Daisy says. “God, I can’t even think about it anymore today. My brain hurts.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Jemma says, smiling. “To distract you.”

* * *

“Again!” Sam says.

Kara nods and approaches her again, throwing a kick at Sam’s lead leg before following up with a quick one-two combination. Sam slips beneath it and bounds to the other side of the sparring ring, keeping out of Kara’s reach for now.

“Well, this is definitely a better way to wake up than coffee,” Kara says.

“Agreed,” Sam says.

The two of them are sparring at the DEO HQ before Kara has to go to work.

Sam fakes a move towards Kara’s legs, as if she’s about to shoot on her, forcing Kara to defend. At the last moment, though, Sam spins, catching Kara with her elbow. Kara stumbles backwards, keeping her hands up to defend herself as Sam advances and throws another kick at her. Kara blocks it, but just barely.

“How’ve you been doing?” Kara asks.

“Frustrated,” Sam says, throwing yet another kick. “I feel like everyone hates me again.”

“C’mon, that’s not true,” Kara says.

“It is,” Sam says. “You know it is.”

Sam kicks again, leaving just enough of an opening for Kara to try and sweep her other leg. Kara just barely manages to hook her ankle, sending her tumbling to the ground. Since they’re there to practice striking, though, she waits for Sam to get back up.

“Damn it,” Sam says. “Look, people saw me fail to prevent the explosion at the Beam and they saw me get taken down with the red sun flares. Soon, they’re going to see that I’ve been taken off the security team for the Peace Talks. What then?”

Sam fakes a kick before launching into another one-two punch combination. Kara leans away from the first and ducks the second, catching Sam in the gut with a punch at the same time. Kara spins as she stands back up, catching Sam in the head with the back of her fist. Sam tries to retaliate, but Kara hooks her foot behind her ankle and shoves her backwards, sending her stumbling.

“C’mon, Sam, you’re better than this,” Kara says. “You just have to keep working. Keep fighting. Keep protecting. The tide of public opinion will always ebb and flow.”

“I was doing so well,” Sam says, once again trying to break through Kara’s defenses with a series of punches. “People were finally trusting me. And now this.”

“Sam, I’m telling you that you can’t worry about that,” Kara says. “When it comes down to it, people will surprise you. I think you’ve earned more goodwill than you think.”

Sam answers by kicking at Kara’s lead leg before launching herself into a spinning kick, which narrowly misses. Kara times it so just as Sam gets back into her fighting stance, she lands a shot perfectly on her head. It lands true, and Sam stumbles backwards.

“I can tell this is bothering you, since you can’t even beat me in a fight,” Kara says, grinning.

Sam laughs, partially out of surprise.

“I don’t know if I like you trash-talking me, Danvers,” she says.

“I know you respond well to it,” Kara says, shrugging. “Now, come on. I have to leave for work in five minutes and I want to kick you in the head again.”

* * *

Daisy once again finds herself on the deck of her penthouse, staring at the city below, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. She turns her gaze to the beach, merely a block away from their penthouse, and watches the waves lap up onto the shore. There’s almost nobody out there, both because of work and because of the fear the Last Patriots have shrouded the city with, like a great, black veil. She swirls her coffee about in her mug, using her powers to agitate the molecules within and heat it back up, and heads back inside.

Back to work.

* * *

“Leftovers again, ma’am?” Vasquez asks.

“I swear that Kara must spend her entire DEO stipend on food,” Alex says, shoveling another forkful of food into her mouth as she pores over case files.

“Yes, what a burden that is,” Vasquez says drily.

“Do you have anything for me?” Alex asks.

“Surprisingly, no,” Vasquez says. “Our techs are building a complete replicate communicator for reasons I can’t understand and they’re annoying me. So now I’m here.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Alex asks.

“I’m on my lunch break too,” Vasquez says, before emphatically taking a bite out of her protein bar.

Alex sighs.

“Alright, fine, take a seat,” Alex says. “It’s not like I’m learning anything new reading any of this.”

Vasquez sits, and takes another bite of her protein bar. Alex makes a mental note to ask Kara for enough leftovers for two the next time around.

“Anyway, I was thinking that…” Alex is interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing.

It’s from Jemma.

 _Hey, it’s Daisy, actually._ The text reads. _I had to send this from Jemma’s phone since I can’t technically contact you. Since you were nice enough to open this text, your phone is now going to automatically download and install a secure messaging app. I’ve already sent you a welcome message._

“Damn it, Daisy,” Alex says. “You’ve gotta be so clever, don’t you?”

True to her word, though, a secure messaging app does in fact show up on her phone, and already has one notification. She opens it up and sees that Daisy has sent her just one message, with an attachment.

_I’ve figured out the communicator. Open the PDF._

Alex stands up, staring at her phone and her heart pounding in her chest. The DEO techs have been slaving over this for however long, and it takes Daisy a day and a half to crack it during house arrest?

“What is it?” Vasquez asks.

“I have to go talk to the techs,” Alex says, already running out of her office.  

* * *

“Look, don’t worry about that,” Alex says. “Just tell me if it can be done.”

The group of DEO lab techs look amongst themselves, and after much wringing of gloved hands, one steps forward.

“Yes, it can be done,” he says. “But, there is the possibility that using the communicator to send a message, even a single ping, could alert whoever’s on the other side.”

“There’s also the possibility that this just doesn’t work at all,” another says.

“Okay, right now, we need to ignore the possibility of failure,” Alex says. “We can’t fail now. We’ll have to move quickly, in case this does alert whoever’s on the other side.”

“How do we do that?” the first tech asks.

“Leave that to me,” Alex says. “Just get the communicator ready to transmit. I’ll let you know when it’s time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says.

* * *

Alex needs eyes and ears on the other side, ready to react as soon as they have information on who the communicator is receiving messages from. If it turns out that this person is Ross or a similarly protected government official from Nordica, then they’ll be able to track all messages and travel attempts through the Beam. Alex needs to get someone over there she can trust who can coordinate action without raising too much suspicion.

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Jemma asks.

“I am,” Alex says. “This is the only solution that I can think of. You have unfettered access to both beam facilities, given your position as an official researcher. Neither side can do much about that.”

Jemma folds her arms across her chest, deep in thought.

“And Coulson is on board with this?” she asks.

“He’s going to have to be,” Alex says. “I’m making this gamble since you and Daisy trust him so much. I can’t contact him beforehand and risk someone intercepting our communications or have someone important stumbling on logs of our conversation after the fact.”

“You’re risking a lot here,” Jemma says. “There are a lot of variables, and a lot that can go wrong.” 

“Jemma, I know,” Alex says. “Look, do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“And do you trust Coulson?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s what we have to go on,” Alex says. “Will you do this for me?”

Jemma stares off into the distance, her jaw clenched. Even with all of the risks involved, this could be it – the last shot they have at taking down the Last Patriots. They could tip off whoever’s on the other end, they may be poking a hornet’s nest of important and powerful government officials, they may risk retaliation, but there’s no way she could walk away from this. Not now.

“I’ll do it,” Jemma says.

Alex clasps her upper arm.

“I knew you would,” Alex says. “Thank you.”

* * *

To avoid rousing suspicion, they drive Jemma in an official Beam Research Team SUV to the L-Corp tower, at which point they switch off and take one of Lena’s sleek, unmarked luxury sedans to the beam itself. All of this subterfuge likely isn’t strictly necessary, but it does make her feel a little better.

They’re stopped at the security checkpoint outside of the Beam Facility, at which point the guards on duty check all of their security passes. This is perhaps the riskiest part of the entire operation, since there will be records of Jemma entering the facility. This isn’t a terribly unusual occurrence, however, since she tends to come here several times a week. A properly motivated investigator would quickly make the connection between her, the DEO, and SHIELD, however, there was no getting around this. Trying to sneak into the Beam Facility would raise more flags that going in through an official checkpoint would.

Jemma doesn’t know why, but her heart is pounding out of her chest as the guard checks her ID. There’s no way that he knows what she’s doing here, and on top of that, they know each other. She’s been conducting legitimate research at this facility for weeks now, and she knows most of the security guards. She’s not sure if this makes things easier, or much, much harder.

Finally, the guard nods at her and hands back her ID card and her security badge. The SUV rumbles back to life and they drive on to the Beam Facility itself as Jemma exhales the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

The SUV pulls to a stop in front of the Universe Nordica Beam Facility – formerly a historic hotel, an older building constructed in a vaguely art-deco style, an oddity amongst the sleek glass towers and the broad California mission stylings of almost every other building in National City. From the top of the building shoots the Beam itself; although it originates in the lobby of the building, the floors and floors of research labs, offices, and defunct hotel rooms do nothing to dilute its vibrancy. Jemma can’t help but find it beautiful, the perfect monument to a quantum leap forward in our understanding of physics and of the union between two formerly disparate universes. If only those universes would stop fighting one another.

“Ma’am, it’s time,” the DEO agent in the passenger’s seat says.

Jemma nods and grabs the unmarked, black backpack to her side. In it are the trans-universal communicator and a tablet. She steps out into the sun, taking a moment to take in the National City skyline, and heads into the facility. Once again, she flashes her security pass to the guard standing just outside, and he lets her in. She walks quickly but not too much so, and she greets all of the researchers that she sees – she wants to get this done and over with, but not with such urgency it leaves an impression of suspicious activity in anyone’s minds. Finally, she makes it to the room that surrounds the Beam itself, and with a deep breath, pushes through the double doors and walks inside.

It’s remarkable how quickly they were able to rebuild this part of the facility. She knows how much of a difference Lena’s monetary contributions make, but even then, everything looks better than it did before. If Lena wanted to make a point in coming back even stronger than before, then she’s accomplished it.

Jemma heads over to the computer in the corner of the room, in keeping with the plan, enters her credentials and officially logs her usage of the Beam. Just like with the security checkpoint, an unlogged and thereby unauthorized usage of the Beam is much more suspicious, even though by doing this she’s leaving her information to be one day discovered. Finally, and with a deep breath, she steps through the Beam.

* * *

To her surprise, Fitz is working on the other side. Jemma smiles cheerfully at him, trying her hardest to bury her own nerves.

“Jemma,” he says. “I didn’t know you were coming here today. Did you want to work on –”

“No, not today,” Jemma says, cutting him off. “I’m heading up to conference room 4B.”

“Oh, must’ve missed that on the schedule,” Fitz says. “Usually nobody is…”

Jemma cuts him off once again, this time with a glare. Fitz nods, realizing that this isn’t the time for small talk, and Jemma makes her way past him and the other researchers, heading to the quiet conference room on the upper levels of the facility.

Once there, she closes the door behind her, pulls the blinds on the windows, and opens up her backpack. She pulls out the trans-universal communicator and its accompany attachment – the two devices have been hastily connected via a series of wires and cables. She turns the tablet on and it opens onto the program that Daisy wrote up just for this purpose. If it works as it’s supposed to, the communicator is supposed to ping its corresponding device and report back a location in Morse code. The tablet will then translate that Morse code into a location based on latitude and longitude. She doesn’t know exactly how it works, and she’s not quite sure if anyone else fully does, either. She has faith in Daisy, though.

So, she turns the communicator on and enters the command on the tablet to begin the process.

The program does so and proceeds to idle for an uncomfortably long time. Each second that passes feels like an epoch onto itself, only Jemma’s experience undercover at Hydra helping to keep her nerves at a manageable level. Every footfall of someone passing by the conference room, the rustling of the blinds from the gusts of air from the AC, and even the background-level buzzing of the various pieces of research equipment sound cacophonous to her as her nerves and anxiety seem to kick her senses into overdrive. She keeps her eyes on the tablet, hoping for the results to pop up.

The door behind her opens like a gunshot and she instinctively positions her body in front of the tablet and communicator setup. A fellow researcher sticks his head through the doorway, looking sheepish as he does so.

“Oh, sorry, I was just looking for a place to make a call,” he says. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“It’s no problem,” Jemma says, keeping her voice steady. “I’ll be out of here in a sec.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “There are tons of open rooms on this floor.”

He chuckles awkwardly and backs out, closing the door behind him. Jemma breathes a sigh of relief and turns back to the tablet.

The program has a result for her.

True to what Daisy had said, the program has a longitude and latitude reading for her, presumably the origin of the messages received by the communicator. A map opens up automatically, finding the specific location. Jemma presses her lips into a tight line – the messages originate from a building in Washington DC.

She pulls out her phone and calls Coulson on a secure line.

“I have some information for you.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Mack asks.

“Of course,” Coulson says. “This is coming directly from Jemma, Daisy, and the DEO. If they’re all telling me to do this discretely and not alert the higher-ups, then I trust them on that.”

“I don’t know,” Mack says. “What if this location is incorrect? Or they know that their communicator went missing, and we’re walking into a trap?”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Coulson says. “If a government official has been directing the actions of a terrorist group in our sister universe, we have to investigate that. Especially with the Peace Talks almost upon us.”

“It also won’t look very good if we get caught spying on our own people,” Mack says.

“If they’re really behind those attacks, then they aren’t our people,” Coulson says. “Besides, we’re SHIELD. Spying on our own is kind of what we do.”

Mack puts his hands on his hips and sighs.

“Fine,” he says. “We just have to be careful.”

“Aren’t we always?” Coulson asks. “Besides, it’s easier to spy on our own people, since we have access to all of their buildings already.”

* * *

“You’re looking dapper.”

“Thank you, May,” Coulson says. “Going back to my old wardrobe for this one. I think I can still pull it off.”

“You’re wearing a suit,” May says. “Not exactly the boldest choice for DC.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Coulson says, smoothing his hair back. “Are we ready?”

“The quinjet is fueled up and good to go,” May says. “The team is waiting for you.”

“Great,” Coulson says. “I’ve got a really good pep talk for this one.”

May just snorts at that, to which Coulson smiles. The two of them make their way to the hangar, where the rest of the core team has assembled, all of them dressed for DC.

“Okay, I won’t lie to you,” Coulson says. “We’re about to do something illegal.”

He looks from face to face. Fitz, Mack, Yo-yo, Bobbi, Hunter, Piper, and, of course, May. None of them even flinch.

“Great, I figured we’d all be okay with that,” Coulson says. “I just want to hammer home the point that what we’re doing has not been sanctioned by any of the higher-ups. If you get caught, there’s not much anyone can do to help you.”

Again, none of them even come close to reacting.

“I don’t think that I need to tell you about the importance of this mission,” Coulson says. “Not only could this keep the people of Kryptonia safe, we also need to show that we can rise above all of the political maneuvering and just do what’s right. It falls on us to be the example that the rest of Nordica cannot.”

Hunter clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“I know you like giving fancy speeches and all, but we’re with you,” Hunter says. “We’re with you all the way.”

The rest of the team nods or murmurs their assent, and Coulson smiles. This is going to work.

“Well then, good,” Coulson says. “Let’s get going.”

* * *

Once they’re wheels-down in DC, they quickly split up, not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves. Though there’s nothing explicitly wrong with a handful of SHIELD agents visiting DC, someone like Ross would immediately know something was wrong if they all showed up together. So, they stagger their arrivals at the building that Jemma had identified to allay any of those suspicions.

Mack, Hunter, May, and Yo-yo arrive first, setting up a loose perimeter around the building. They’re the first and last lines of defense – if they see something happening inside the building, or get a warning from their fellow agents, or simply notice anything out of order, they’ll need to spring into action.

The leaves Coulson, Fitz, Bobbi, and Piper to enter the building, in search of the mysterious companion to the communication device found in Kryptonia. Because they’ve had to scramble so quickly all they have to find the device are some rudimentary, repurposed scanning tools that should locate internal hardware similar to the original communication device. Fitz had the scanners built into smart watches, so ideally they’ll just appear somewhat tech-obsessed rather than outwardly suspicious as they continuously check them for results.

“I kind of thought the building would look more evil,” Hunter says over their secure and private communications channel. “You know, someone in there is coordinating terrorist attacks in the other universe.”

“I don’t think buildings can look evil, Hunter,” Bobbi says. “Anyway, we need to stay off this channel except for emergencies.”

Hunter grumbles but otherwise stays silent. The building, by all outward appearances, is nothing more than a nondescript government building. In a city full of monuments, it’s a stunningly unremarkable place.  All records suggest that it serves an administrative purpose for the US government, which is vague enough to be deeply suspicious.

Each of the four-man team enters the building one at a time, staggered by a few minutes. Bobbi goes first, followed by Piper, Fitz, and finally Coulson. The interiors are equally bland as the exterior: grey carpets bleed into grey cubicle half-walls beneath harsh, fluorescent lighting and unadorned white walls. It’s oppressively normal, and it fills Coulson with a sense of dread.

Each of them heads to their assigned floor and begin sweeping their way through it. Coulson takes the stairs up to the fourth floor where he quickly flashes his SHIELD badge to the receptionist and makes his way down each hallway, periodically checking is watch for any positive results. 

“I have a weird feeling about this place, guys,” Bobbi says. “It’s too ordinary, like they’re trying to hide something. There are no logos or identifying symbols anywhere. No signs on doors or conferences rooms. No nameplates. Nothing.”

“Same,” Piper says. “Really creeping me out.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing the same,” Fitz says. “Nobody seems to be bothered by my presence, though. I don’t think anyone has even made eye contact with me.”

“I can’t disagree with you guys,” Coulson says. “Hold on, I see an office with a name on it. I’ll just…”

“Coulson.”

His path is cut off, by all people, Secretary Ross. Coulson exhales and tries his hardest to keep his face impassive and casual, as if he had been expecting to see him there. In the half of a half-second after Ross has appeared, Coulson formulates the skeleton of a conversation to keep Ross off-balance. He also makes sure that his comms device is continuously broadcasting to the rest of the team, so they know exactly what’s going on.

“Ross,” Coulson greets. “Just who I wanted to see.”

“Is that so?” Ross asks. “You know, you could’ve just called. Or emailed me, that’s something the government has finally caught up on.”

Ross is too calm and easygoing, which is more than enough to set Coulson on edge. He reminds himself that there’s nothing inherently wrong about being here – since this is a government building, and SHIELD has relatively unfettered access to most government installations.

“Even inter-department mail can be breached,” Coulson says, a hint of humor to his voice. “No, I wanted to talk to you in person. It’s about Daisy. Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

Before he can answer, Coulson’s smart watch buzzes and he quickly checks it, not wanting Ross to get a glimpse of the screen. The scanning tool has found the location of the corresponding communications device. It’s in the only office with a sign by it.

Which Coulson can see now is Ross’s office. Of course. Nothing is easy for the agents of SHIELD.

“Why don’t we talk in my office?” Ross suggests.

“I’m not a big fan of offices,” Coulson says. “They’re always a little too stuffy for my tastes. Hard to communicate. Is there a private conference room somewhere?”

“On it,” Bobbi’s quietly voice comes through Coulson’s comms device, picking up on his subtle clues.

Ross regards him curiously for a moment, wondering if Coulson is playing at something or if this is just more of his trademark humor. Coulson finds himself holding his breath, despite his best attempts at appearing calm and collected.

“Yeah, follow me,” Ross says. “I assume you have something good?”

“I wouldn’t have flown out to DC otherwise,” Coulson says. “This is about her past, and how it relates to her future.”

As they’re walking away from Ross’s office, Coulson quickly glances back over his shoulder to see Bobbi appear from down a hallway, specter-like, and smoothly pick the lock to the door and slip inside.

“About her past?” Ross asks, seemingly not noticing Coulson’s distraction. “Is this something that’s not in her files?”

Ross opens the door to the conference room for Coulson, who graciously steps inside.

“It is,” Coulson says. “And I think you’ll really want to hear this.”

Ross closes the door behind them. The blinds to the windows are all pulled and the room is dimly lit, the overhead fluorescent lights seemingly weaker than those outside. This seems to highlight the lines in Ross’s face, transforming it into an unreadable, stony mask.

“Coulson, I know you’re not here to talk about Daisy,” Ross says. “So, why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

Coulson smiles placidly at him, trying to seem unfazed by this sudden accusation.

“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” he says. “I thought we were just having a friendly, professional chat.”

“I know what you’re looking for,” Ross says. “It won’t change anything.”

“Oh, I think it will,” Coulson says. “Sometimes it’s all about the little things.”

“I should remind you that there are cameras all over this building, and in my office,” Ross says. “I recall only inviting you into my office, not any of your fellow agents.”

“Well, let’s just say that the US Government is slow to update their security software,” Coulson says. “I don’t know a lot about that myself, but that’s why I have a team with diverse skillsets.”

Ross clenches his jaw, but only for a moment. Coulson immediately senses the shift in the dynamics of the room, and he takes a step forward.

“You can’t play this game forever, Ross,” he says.

“Be careful where you tread, Coulson,” he responds. “This is a dangerous city.”

Ross stares down Coulson, who meets that gaze with a hint of amusement on his face. His comms device chooses that moment to crackle to life.

“I’ve got it,” Bobbi says.

“I’m done my part, too,” Fitz says.

“Well, thanks for the advice,” Coulson says, smiling. “I think I’ll take in more of this dangerous city. I might visit the Smithsonian.”

Coulson can feel Rose’s gaze burning into him as he opens the door to the conference room and steps back out into that nondescript office space. He sees Bobbi slip out of Ross’s office and disappear into the stairwell.

“We’ve got it,” Coulson says into his comms device. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Ross, after he hears Coulson’s footsteps fading into the distance, slams his fist against the conference table. He has no idea how they were able to trace anything back to him, but it’s clear that they have. After pacing about the conference room, his mind muddled with anger, he steps out into the hallway, smooths down his suit, and exhales audibly. Taking measured steps, he makes his way back to his office. He closes the blinds to the windows.

He sits down at his desk, taking a moment to take a quick inventory of everything that’s out in the open. When he’s satisfied with that, he opens up the top drawer of his desk and pulls out everything that’s in it. As he does that, he sees that the partition of wood that separates the hidden compartment from the rest of the drawer is slightly askew. He pulls it aside to see that the key he keeps back there is still there, though it’s clear that it’s been used.

With his heart pounding in his ears, he grabs the key and removes the landscape painting from his wall, revealing the secret panel behind. He removes that as well, exposing the thick-walled safe that sits there. With increasingly unsteady hands, he slides the key into the lock and turns it, hearing the tumblers click open, one after another. The door of the safe swings open.

It’s empty.

He slams the safe shut. Coulson has the communicator and his agent no doubt took numerous pictures of where it is in the office. This might be the one piece of evidence that can connect him to the Last Patriots, and it’s in the hands of the one government official he knows he can’t trust.

He leans back in his finely-crafted, leather office chair, tapping his fingers against the armrests, his mouth downturned into a frown. After a few moments, he leans forward and grabs the phone off his desk, dialing the number he knows so well. It only takes one ring for the other side to pick up.

“I need authorization for Operation Percival,” Ross says.

He waits for a few moments.

“Thank you,” Ross says. “All of you. I have no doubt in my mind that this will secure our future in the new universe.”

He hangs up the phone, feeling reinvigorated. Coulson is a mere blip on the radar now.

* * *

“What do we have?” Coulson asks.

“So much,” Fitz says. “I was worried we’d need someone like Daisy to sift through their servers, but their security was pretty rudimentary. I think we might have everything.”

“You were right,” Bobbi says, nodding at Coulson. “Ross was so preoccupied with the communicator that he didn’t even consider we’d be snooping around in his files.”

“He knows that we’re up to something, though,” Coulson says. “We have to act quickly and get the important information to Alex at the DEO.”

“I can send the pictures I took over,” Bobbi says. “Plus, we have the communicator itself.”

“Hold on, look at this,” Fitz says, waving everyone over to the laptop that’s balanced on his lap. “I’ve got a mission statement here. Who wants to do the honors?”

Coulson grabs the laptop and quickly skims through the PDF that Fitz has found, a frown quickly forming on his face.

“Project Imperial,” Coulson reads. “Our main goal is to force ‘Universe Kryptonia’ into a one-sided peace treaty. We will destabilize the city around the beam, manipulate public opinion, and force Kryptonia to accept an intervention from our military forces. Once we’ve established a presence, we can achieve a deal on our terms.”

The quinjet is completely silent, save for the steady humming of its engines.

“I can’t believe it,” Mack says. “Did they really think that would work?”

“I think it has been working,” Bobbi says. “Imagine what would’ve happened if the DEO wasn’t assigned to the case.”

“We need to get this information to Kryptonia, and fast,” Coulson says.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, can you even believe that more wild shit is happening??? Where will I even take this next? (I know, but you don't yet!)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://movepastthefeeling.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MPTF_Fics)


	8. King of Piss and Paper (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we spiral together towards the end

“Gentlemen, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for,” Ross says. “The suits are ready and tested. You have your targets. You will move on them immediately.”

Standing in front of Ross are ten men in the sleek, black suits that will carry them between universes, the technology based largely on Daisy’s powers. Each operative has been hand-picked from the elite of the elite – the Marines, Delta Force, CIA Special Operations Groups, and others that the public hasn’t even heard of.

“This is our moment to show the world – both worlds – what we are capable of,” Ross says. “Do not fail. If you’re stranded in Kryptonia, your actions will be disavowed and we will deny any knowledge of you. Do you all understand?”

The men nod.

“Good,” Ross says. “Now get to work.”

One by one, the men activate their suits. They shimmer for a half-second before vanishing from sight completely with a quiet pop. Soon, Ross is standing in the room alone.

He pulls out his backup communicator from his back pocket next and sends a message to the Last Patriots. He knows that the DEO has undoubtedly been waiting for this, but at this stage in the game it hardly matters. Besides, his messages are always sent in code. By the time they figure out what he’s saying, it’ll be too late.

* * *

Daisy paces on the deck of the penthouse, trying to burn off all of the nervous energy that’s coiled up in her gut, a beer bottle hanging loosely between her fingers. She knows that nobody can contact her directly regarding the trans-universal communicators, especially since she smashed that phone soon after she sent those messages to Alex, but she needs to hear something. Being alone at a time like this is pure torture.

As she continues to pace, she hears a quiet pop behind her. She furrows her brow, sensing a presence behind her, and she slowly turns around. A man is standing there, a futuristic-looking suit covering his whole body and an assault rifle cradled in his arms, pointed right at her. Three more pops sound off, one after another, all around her, and just like that she’s surrounded at gunpoint.

Daisy sighs and finishes off her beer.

“Where are you freaks from?” she asks.

* * *

Lena sighs. An emergency IFESTB conference call has been scheduled, which is the last thing she wants on a busy day. It’s as if they don’t realize that she has a billion-dollar company to run, and given who coordinates these calls, it’s likely that they truly don’t.

She activates the security features in her office, muffling all sound and blacking out all the windows, leaving her isolated. Just as she’s about to patch into the trans-universal call, three pops sound around her, like someone is opening up bottles of champagne. She turns around slowly to see that three men in black suits have appeared behind her brandishing assault rifles, each of which is trained right on her. Her fingers grip tightly around the edge of her desk.

* * *

Kara and Sam are walking out of a restaurant downtown, having enjoyed a quiet, late lunch, when six strange pops sound off around them, and suddenly they’re surrounded by men in sleek suits. They look at one another before they both drop into fighting stances.

* * *

The answer Daisy gets doesn’t surprise her, though it isn’t very satisfying to her. So, she quickly dissolves their assault rifles and immediately goes on the offensive, slamming her foot into the chest of the man standing in front of her and sending him flying. Right before he lands on the deck, he activates his suit, blinking out of view.

“Oh, this is going to be annoying,” she says.

As if to prove her point, the three remaining men rush her at once, two of them grabbing her arms and the other trying to sink in a chokehold. Once she gets her footing, she easily tosses both men on her arms off, before whipping her head back and into the faceplate of the helmet her assailants are wearing. She can hear a satisfying crunch and spins around to see that she’s crushed the front of the helmet, and its wearer is trying his hardest to pull it off. Finally he manages to get it off, revealing a bloodied and crooked nose. Daisy grins.

He blinks out of view as the two men she had thrown off of her get back to their feet, now brandishing angry, crackling stun batons. They rush her once again and she’s careful to avoid their quick, precise swings. One of them nearly manages to clip her with his baton, and as she’s backing up the man she had kicked blinks back into this universe. He’s also brandishing one of those batons and he’s already mid-swing – Daisy can do nothing more than brace herself as it makes contact with her midsection.

Electricity surges through her, and she’s certain that it’s only her Inhuman physiology that prevents her from passing out on the spot. She slams against the deck and the men crowd around her, preparing to bring their batons down upon her all at once. Thinking fast, she quickly uses her powers to blast her to the side, out from underneath those three men and, unfortunately, directly into the pool.

The fourth attacker blinks back into view and all four of them peer into the pool. Daisy, working fast, uses her powers to manipulate the molecules of the water around her to form solid pellets of ice, and blasts them out of the pool at the four men. Two of them manage to blink out of the universe to avoid them, but the other two aren’t so lucky. The pellets of ice slam into them like particularly furious hail, and they’re both knocked back by the blast, landing heavily on their backs.

Daisy pushes herself out of the pool and uses her powers to steam off the water dripping down her body, especially the drops of water that come off her hair and obscure her vision.

The two men who had escaped the onslaught of ice blink back into view, one on either side of Daisy. She grins at them.

“Is that all you got?”

* * *

Jess, who had been dutifully going through her emails, immediately springs into action when she sees that Lena has activated the panic button in her office. The panic button automatically contacts Kara, along with Alex and Sam, and also allows Jess to override the security lockdown if need be. Jess checks on the security cameras in Lena’s office to see her surrounded by three strange men, and she realizes that even the Kryptonians might not make it there fast enough, especially since none of them having been responding.

Jess quickly scans the office around her and spies Jemma leading a meeting in one of the conference rooms. Throwing normal decorum out of the window, she bursts into the conference room and drags Jemma out by the arm, promising her that it’s important.

“What’s going on?” Jemma asks.

“Lena’s in trouble,” Jess says, quickly overriding the security lockdown. “Help her.”

Jemma’s expression immediately hardens and she nods, entering the office.  

“…and you know what will happen if you kill me,” Lena says. “They will never stop hunting for you. And they will find you.”

All eyes are on Jemma once she steps inside the office. The three men have taken off their helmets, perhaps wanting to intimidate Lena face-to-face.

“Jemma,” Lena says. “I assume you have some super smart plan to get me out of here?”

“Not exactly,” Jemma says. “Get down.”

Lena immediately ducks right as Jemma begins charging at the three attackers. They aim their assault rifles on her, but before they start firing, Jemma presses a hidden button on her prosthetic arm and activates its shield projection function, which uses proprietary hard-light technology to create a semi-opaque, though impenetrable, shield. The bullets bounce harmlessly off of it and Jemma slams the shield against the first attacker in her path. He falls to the ground, winded.

The two other men shoulder their assault rifles. The first one throws a punch at Jemma, which she narrowly dodges, only for the other to kick at her leg, sending her off balance. She just barely manages to grab onto his shoulder to steady himself, and she reverses her momentum to slam her prosthetic fist against his face. He stumbles backwards, blood streaming from his broken nose. She kicks the other man in the chest before he can attack her, keeping him at bay.

The attacker she had knocked to the ground with her shield has recovered and springs back to his feet, managing to land a solid punch right on the side of her head. She keeps her wits about her, though, and is able to block the next and clap her hands over his ears, disorienting him. The other attacker, though, grabs her blouse from behind and throws her into the wall behind her, dazing her for a moment. He lands two solid blows on her body and nearly slams his fist against her face; she barely dodges at the last moment and his fist slams against the drywall.

She circles back out away from the wall, shaking her head to hopefully clear the cobwebs from her mind. All three men are back on their feet, though they certainly look worse for wear.

Jemma grins at them.

* * *

The men surrounding Kara and Sam all pull out those distinctive guns that look like flare guns, but certainly aren’t flare guns. Kara’s eyes widen and she grabs Sam’s shoulder.

“Go!” Kara shouts, with such authority that Sam doesn’t even think twice as she blasts off into the sky. “Contact Alex!”

She barely gets her last sentence out before all of the men fire red sun flares directly at her, all at once. She coughs, trying hard to stay on her feet, and begins swinging wildly at the men around her. Her strength is quickly sapped, though, and the men are quick to back away from her. She keeps trying, though, even as her legs begin to feel like jelly and her hands as heavy as lead. Her head feels fuzzy, the sudden influx of the red sun analogue too much for her to handle at once. She falls to one knee and tries to push herself back up, but fails. The red has consumed her.

Once the area is blanketed in red and Kara is down for good, they approach her once again. One of them produces a pair of Kryptonite handcuffs and locks them around Kara’s wrists, trapping her for good.

Sam hopes that the DEO can get here fast enough, knowing that if she tried to help, the same fate would befall her.

* * *

One of the men pulls a device out from his utility belt, aims it at Daisy, and pushes a button on it. From the device springs a large, heavy net, which flies straight at her. Her eyes widen and she barely manages to leap out of the way, nearly crashing into a piece of patio furniture along the way. Just as she gets her feet beneath her, though, two more nets are flying right at her, and she instinctively puts her hands up and blasts them away with her powers.

The men have once again formed a wide circle around her, leaving her with fewer and fewer places to run. So, instead of playing defensively, she decides to once again bring the fight to them. She builds up a swirling, distorted sphere of vibrational energy between her hands before blasting it outwards, flushing the area around her with waves of her power.

The men, however, see this coming, and all of them blink out of this universe to avoid getting blasted by Daisy’s powers. Daisy slowly spins in place, waiting for them to reappear.

They do so, but staggered. The first of them appears, immediately firing a net directly at her. She leaps out of the way, but in the midst of doing so, another of the attackers appears, shooting another net at her. In mid-air she blasts it away, and it lands in the pool – and as soon as it touches the water it shoots out sparks like a firecracker.

Daisy can feel her heart thudding against her ribcage as she realizes exactly what she’s up against. As she comes out of her combat roll, another of the assailants materializes directly in front of her. Daisy roars from exertion and launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and driving him backwards with a picture-perfect shoulder tackle. The man tries to wrestle Daisy into some kind of a chokehold, but she grapples her way out of it. 

She can sense three of the men looming behind her and turns around just in time to see them all shoot nets straight at her. They’re close enough to her that no amount of evasive maneuvers can save her. So, she does the one thing that has made everyone so afraid of her. She presses her hand against her chest and manipulates the vibration of her molecules so that she too can teleport to the sister universe.

She hopes she doesn’t screw this up.

* * *

Jemma ducks beneath a punch from one of the attackers and retaliates with a punch straight to his gut. Another one of them kicks out her leg, sending her to one knee, while the other tees up a kick straight to her head. She rolls forward to avoid the attack. As she comes out of that, she springs up and spins, extending her prosthetic fist, and manages to slam it into the back of the head of one of the attackers. He flies forward and his forehead smashes against Lena’s desk, knocking him out cold.

Two left.

One of them pulls a knife and advances on Jemma, swiping at her. She quickly backs up, making sure she doesn’t get pushed back into a corner, and waits for an opening to retaliate. Finally, he over-commits to a forward thrust of his knife. Jemma dodges, uses her prosthetic arm to grab his arm, and spins behind him, wrenching his arm into an awkward position. She kicks the back of his leg, sending him to one knee, and is just about to disarm him when the other attacker grabs her in a chokehold from behind. Lena yelps.

Jemma struggles, but the man just sinks the chokehold in deeper. As the edges of her vision begin to blur, she activates another function in her prosthetic arm.

A blade slides out from the prosthetic forearm’s wrist and she’s quick to jam it into attacker, wherever she can reach. The blade, made out of alien metal and crafted using ancient Kryptonian techniques, easily slices through the man’s armor and into his shoulder. He howls in pain and loosens his grip just enough for Jemma to wriggle her way out. Jemma tees up and lands a perfect question-mark kick to his head, crumpling him to the ground.

Lena shouts again. Jemma turns to see that the final attacker has now got her in a chokehold.

Jemma clenches her jaw as the attacker smiles at her.

“Stay where you are,” he says. “Or I snap her neck.”

* * *

Sam, along with Alex and two teams of DEO agents, make their way to where she and Kara were attacked by those strange men in stranger suits, only to find that there’s no one there. The remnants of the red sun flares remain, a light dusting of red powder on the sidewalk and street, but otherwise there’s no evidence that an attack even took place here.

Kara is nowhere to be seen.

Sam begins to pace. They had been attacked right here, outside of the restaurant. She would ask someone to verify her memory, but everyone has long since run away or holed themselves up in whatever hiding place they could find. Nobody wants to be around when a fight with Kryptonians breaks out. But now, there’s nothing.

“Sam, talk to me,” Alex says. “Did you recognize who attacked you? Tell me about them.”

“No, I didn’t,” Sam says. “They were wearing strange, black combat suits. Looked really sci-fi.”

Sam runs a hand through her hair, trying her hardest to calm down and think.

“They just appeared around us,” Sam says. “We were walking one moment, and the next we were surrounded.”

“They just appeared,” Alex echoes. “Wait, you don’t think that…”

Alex’s voice trails off as her eyes widen. Sam catches up about a half-second later.

“We have to get back to base,” Alex says. “C’mon!”

* * *

Daisy, who had squeezed her eyes shut upon using her powers on herself, slowly open them once again. Her surroundings are strange – she’s in a small room with metal walls and no doors. There’s a small window on one wall, but it seems as if something is blocking it, since she can’t see anything through it. She can hear a strange buzzing, somewhere deep in the background, and she can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s so subtle yet all-encompassing it seems to be emanating from the base of her school.

Suddenly, cover over the window slides open, and she sees one of her attackers standing on the other side. Her eyes widen and she slams her fist against the door. In addition to the subtle buzzing, she realizes she can hear his voice, though it’s muffled. She presses her ear up against the door to listen it.

“…yeah, it worked perfectly. She’s here right now,” he says. “Everything has been set up, including the nullifier.”

Daisy leans against one of the walls, the gears in her head turning as she tries to avoid falling into despair.

* * *

Lena, after struggling against the chokehold for a few moments, slams the point of her heel against her attacker’s combat boots. This gives her enough of an opening for her to slam her elbows into the man’s gut. He continues to grapple with her, though, preventing her from escaping, though she’s now out of the chokehold.

Amidst this chaos, Jemma leaps over Lena’s desk, grabs the man’s face with her prosthetic hand, and uses her forward momentum to slam him into the floor. Lena just barely manages to wriggle out of his grasp before he’s flung down like a ragdoll. He tries to push himself back upright, but Lena kicks him squarely in the face. The back of his head hits the floor, knocking him out.

Jemma and Lena share a glance for a moment, before they both exhale breaths they didn’t know they were holding in.

“Good work, Ms. Luthor,” Jemma says.

“Thanks,” Lena says. “I knew combat training from Kara would come in handy one day.”

* * *

Kara finally opens her eyes, feeling like she’s waking up to the mother of all hangovers. A searing pain courses through her, and she bites her lip to avoid groaning in pain. She tries to move her arms in a futile attempt to alleviate some of the pain, but when she realizes that she can’t, she cranes her head back to see that the Kryptonite cuffs are still attached securely around her wrists. Just looking at that green glow is enough to send a fresh wave of nausea over her, and she stumbles from side-to-side until she slams against the wall to her left, using it as support.

She takes big, gulping breaths, both in an attempt to clear her head and to keep her lunch down. Finally, she slowly takes stock of her surroundings – she’s in a small, metal-walled room, with one lone window that’s covered up. A sense of claustrophobia nearly overwhelms her, but it’s only one of many tortures placed upon her in this moment.

After a few seconds, even the wall isn’t enough to support her, and legs buckle beneath her and she falls into a seated position. She has no idea where she is, what has happened to Sam, where her friends are, nothing. She squeezes her eyes shut, having to use almost all of her willpower just to stay positive.

* * *

“They’re at each other’s throats. They won’t last long.”

“Excellent. We move now. Retrieve the Stones from Earth. I’ll be right behind you; I have some business to take care of first.”

* * *

Coulson and his team have landed in a SHIELD installation in New York, having wanted to put some distance between them and DC but not fly all the way back to the west coast. This is also the closest base that has the capability to communicate with their sister universe, and they don’t want to waste any time in getting the information they have to Alex.

As Coulson sends all of the information they found to the DEO, secrecy be damned, the rest of them wait anxiously in the rest of the base, either pacing nervously or trying to hold casual conversations or, in Hunter’s case, raiding the fridge for beer and snacks.

* * *

Just as she had thought, Alex has a trans-universal message waiting for her from SHIELD back at their base. She assigns Vasquez and Sam to start looking for Kara, though she already has a few ideas about where she is now, all of them bad, as she pores over the message.

She can hardly believe her eyes.

Coulson and his team have done it, done what the DEO has been failing to do for weeks now – understand the scope and ambition behind the attacks on National City. And there was no way that the DEO would’ve solved this, given the machinations and plans of Ross and his allies in Nordica. There are gigabytes upon gigabytes of files to go through, from missions statements to tactical plans to blueprints of the trans-universal communicator and other such pieces of technology.

Though it’ll take a team of lawyers and related experts weeks to go through all of the information they now have at their fingerprints, the gist of all of this is clear – several important government officials in Nordica planned to destabilize National City and the Peace Talks in order to force Kryptonia into an asymmetrical treaty. There were seemingly no limits to what they were willing to do and absolutely no consideration of morals or ethics. This is it. Alex wastes no time in forwarding on all the information to her superiors and DC and directly to President Marsden.

Only an hour later, Alex receives a phone call from her secured, direct line to the President.

“Director Danvers, I’m bringing you in to this conference call,” Marsden says. “I’ll let our Director of Homeland Security fill you in on what we’ve decided to do.”

“We’re closing the Beam, effective immediately,” he says. “We’re pulling the researchers out and sending soldiers in. Anyone caught attempting to enter or exit the beam is to be treated with extreme suspicion, regardless of who it is. We can’t take any more chances.”

Alex realizes, with some dark humor, that this falls completely in line with the purported mission statement of the Last Patriots – to shut down the beam and prevent anyone from crossing through. She also realizes that this is not the best time to bring that up.

“Understood,” she says. “What’s the DEOs place in all of this?”

“If you can spare some agents to secure the perimeter around the beam, it would be greatly appreciated,” he says.

The unspoken implication here, as always, it that they should muster up at least a Kryptonian to help out.

“I can make that happen,” Alex says. “What is to be done about the Last Patriots?”

“As they are now a matter of global security, we are bringing in all of the resources that we can,” he says. “CIA, FBI, NSA, the military, you name it. We’re bringing the whole alphabet together to bring these guys down for good.”

Though Alex usually hates working with the other government agencies – she finds that they lack the scruples of something like her own DEO – in this case, she can hardly complain. They need to take down the Last Patriots, because once they do, they can set their sights on the real target: Ross and his compatriots.

“Perfect. We’ll share our case files with anyone who wants to help us out,” Alex says. “Let’s take these guys down.”

* * *

Daisy sits cross-legged in her cell, perfectly still with her eyes closed and her hands outstretched before her, her palms facing outward. Her breaths are slow, deep, and deliberate, her heartrate dropped to almost nothing. Even though the cell is protected by the effects of a vibrational nullifier, it’s not quite powerful enough to stem the tide of the full scope Daisy’s powers, which lap like gentle waves against the walls of the room. Under the nullifier’s effects, she can’t quite muster up the power to simply blast through the walls of her cell, but she’s hoping that she can sense the location of the nullifier and jar at least one vital component loose to break it entirely.

Finally, after slowly probing different areas of her cell, she finally discovers that the nullifier is located above her. She powers up her vibrational powers as much as they can go and begins shaking the device, hoping that something will break in the process.

Her concentration is broken, however, as claxons sound all around her. Out of habit, her eyes fly open and she springs to her feet, ready to leap into action, when she realizes that she’s still trapped in this tiny, claustrophobic cell. Instead, she presses her ear to the door to try and discover what’s happening.

She manages to catch snippets of conversation, picking up on phrases like “New York” and “invasion?” and “all of a sudden.” Her heart begins to thump against her ribcage – are they being invaded again? What could possibly be happening? She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut, once again reaching out with her powers to shake the nullifier. Sweat beads at her temple and adrenaline surges through her in an unpleasant, gut-churning wave as the klaxons continue to blare and the urgency and desperation of the conversations increase all around her. She redoubles her efforts.

As she continues to flood the nullifier with whatever vibrational power she can muster, she feels her teeth chatter and her bones rattle. Whoever captured her was smart enough to remove her sleek, silver bracelets, the same ones that can transform into vibration-dampening gauntlets, so she has no protection against her own powers. She can’t let this stop her now, so she grits her teeth and continues her efforts to escape.

Finally, once it feels as if her bones will snap and her teeth will shake right out of her skull, something breaks in the nullifier above and, now no longer throttled, she lets loose a great wave of her powers that vaporizes the roof of her cell and most of the floor above her. She’s about to leap up and out of her cell when she hears the muffled sound of someone yelling. Whoever it is, their voice sounds oddly familiar, and Daisy is quick to realize that it’s Kara.

Wasting no time, she dissembles the molecules of the door to her cell and steps out into the hallway, the sound of the klaxons loud enough that she feels like they’re going to make her eardrums burst. Luckily, though, her gauntlets are just outside her cell, and she slides them back on, grinning. She holds up her hands and uses her powers to nullify the sound waves of the alarms, resulting in relative, blissful silence. This also helps her locate the cell that Kara is in, which she quickly dissolves the door to.

Daisy immediately spots the handcuffs around Kara’s wrists and uses her powers to dissolve them into nothingness. Kara’s pained grimace fades into a weak smile.

“Daisy!” she exhales. “How did you get here?”

“Whoever runs this place attacked me at my apartment,” Daisy says. “You?”

“I was out with Sam when they attacked us,” Kara says. “I let myself get captured so that Sam could escape and warn Alex.”

“I can’t believe they got you, too,” Daisy says. “Do you know who these guys are? Or what’s going on?”

“I’m not entirely sure who they are, but I know that we’re in Nordica right now,” Kara says. “The Kryptonite in my cell was just strong enough to hold me, but I was still able to use my super-hearing. I think someone – or something – is attacking New York.”

“That’s what I picked up on, too,” Daisy says. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We need to help out if we can.”

“Agreed,” Kara says.

Even as much as the Nordica politicians are frustrating Daisy, there’s no way she’s going to turn her back on the citizens of this universe. And if New York is being attacked again, it means that there are millions of people who are potentially in danger. There’s no getting around that.

Just as they’re about to find their way out of this place, soldiers march into place on either side of them, blocking off the hallway. They aren’t wearing the same sleek, futuristic suits of the earlier assailants, so Daisy figures they won’t be able to disappear off into another universe.

“I don’t have time for this,” Daisy growls.

She flushes the hallway with her powers, sending the men flying. They slam against whatever hard surface is nearer, all of them knocked out cold.

“Let’s get out of here,” Daisy says, to which Kara nods.

They make their way through the base, with Kara using her x-ray vision to try and figure out where to go.

“Daisy, your gauntlets!” Kara says. “They’re in here.”

Kara rams her shoulder into a locked door and easily busts through. Daisy’s gauntlets are sitting in a secured safe; Kara melts its locking mechanism with her heat vision.

“For you,” Kara says, a grin on her face.

“You shouldn’t have,” Daisy says, amused.

Daisy slides them back on, flexing her hands into fists to test the fit. She activates their various functions next, knuckle-dusters sliding in place over her knuckles before the retractable blades shoot out from hidden compartments.

They continue making their way through the base. Come across what looks like a control room, with plenty of monitors and computer consoles and other types of monitoring equipment. On the largest screen, in the center of the room, footage of New York is being shown. Kara sees it first and grabs at Daisy’s arm to get her to slow down.

“Look!” she says.

They both stop in front of the monitor, hardly believing what they’re seeing. Hovering above the city is a strange, massive circular ship, its unusual shape adding to its surreal quality as it hovers there in the sky, amongst the gray clouds. 

“What the hell is that?” Daisy asks.

“I have no idea,” Kara says. “We need to get out of here, and fast. We can’t waste time looking for an exit.”

“Kara, what do you…”

Daisy lets her voice trail off as Kara blasts the walls of whatever base they’re in with her heat vision. The beams slice through layers of metal and concrete in a roughly circular shape, and once the beams circle around to reach their starting point, Daisy blasts the cut-out with her powers. They can see the sky through their newly-made opening, and Kara grins ruefully at Daisy.

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t want to waste any more time. Shall we?”

Daisy can’t help but laugh. Only Kara could look so sheepish after blasting her way through layers and layers of reinforced steel and concrete.

“Can’t argue with that. Let’s get to New York.”

* * *

“Is this live?” Coulson asks. “Are we being invaded again?”

“Looks that way,” Mack says. “There are a handful of Avengers in the area. I’m hearing we have Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, and Bruce Banner on the scene.”

“Good, we need to keep a close eye on this,” Coulson says. “I sure wish we had a few Kryptonians to throw at this problem.”

“You and everyone else,” Mack says. “Besides Ross and his friends.”

Coulson nods, staring at the screen, the strange ship seeming to taunt them.

“Okay, we need to scramble all the personnel we can,” Coulson says. “See if you can contact any of the other Avengers. We need to get moving on this.”

“Hey, we have something on radar,” May calls out. “Moving fast.”

They all crowd around the screen to see a blip skipping from one side to the other, implying a speed that should be nearly impossible for an object of that size.

“What is that?” Coulson asks. “Where’s it heading?”

“Right towards New York,” May says.

“Keep on that,” Coulson says. “Try to get some drones to pick up on whatever that is. Mack, have we heard from the Avengers?”

He shrugs.

“Not really,” he says. “They’re kind of a mess right now.”

Coulson stands there in the center of the command center as chaos continues to erupt around him – images of the invading ship flicker on the screens behind him, the radar and its accompanying sensors beep incessantly, agents are furiously typing commands into their computers or running in or out to stay on top of the action, and even the most senior members of their team seem perplexed by the situation.

“Coulson,” Mack says, breaking him from his reverie. “What do you want us to do?”

* * *

Stark, Banner, and Strange run out into the street, surveying the scene before them. Wind whips down the street, carrying off loose pieces of trash and the screams of fleeing civilians as the two, strange aliens, who have beamed down from the ship, slowly approach them. One of them is large, hulking, and silent, while the other is slender and proud-looking, his reedy voice slicing through the background noise as he announces who they are and what their intentions are. Bruce is right. Thanos is coming.

Tony glances over at Stephen, his expression unreadable. Deep down, though, he must be at least a little worried about the safety of the Time Stone, or else Tony would think he’s truly crazy (beyond the whole “Sorcerer Supreme” wizard get-up). He mostly ignores those thoughts, though, as he lobs some trash talk at the two “children of Thanos.” They seem unfazed by it, but it’s mostly for Tony to pound his own chest and pump himself up.

Even in the relative safety of his suit, Tony can feel his heart pounding in his chest. If Thanos is even half as bad as Bruce described, they’re in for one hell of a fight. And, despite what he’s just said, these two “children” hardly look like pushovers. But now is no time for doubts. Now it’s time to fight.

As they charge at one another, there’s the whistling of wind coming from behind the heroes. For a moment, the sensors in Tony’s suit go completely haywire and once they settle back down, two figures have suddenly appeared in front of him. One of them is clad in an angular, all-black suit with gauntlets around her wrists and a mask covering the lower half of her face. The other is in a bold, blue armored suit with red accents throughout, completed by a flowing, red cape and a golden symbol on her chest.

“Could someone update us on what’s going on?” Kara asks, her golden hair caught in the wind.

“Thanos is coming and he wants to wipe out half of all life in the universe,” Tony says. “Real mean guy.”

“These are his ‘children,’” Bruce fills in. “They’re here to collect artifacts known as the ‘Infinity Stones,’ which he needs to fulfill his plans.”

“So, they’re the bad guys, and we beat them up,” Daisy says, idly checking her gauntlets. “Sound about right?”

“A bit oversimplified, but if that suits you…” Stephen says.

“Great,” Daisy says. “Shall we?”

Kara nods at her. Without wasting a second, Daisy charges at the slender alien – Ebony Maw – while Kara flies at the larger one – Obsidian Cull. Obsidian swings his weapon directly at Kara, who dodges at the last moment, the end of the weapon finding itself embedded in the asphalt. Ebony Maw has one hand placed delicately behind his back while the other waves about in front of him as he uses his strange telekinesis to lift chunks of asphalt up off the street and send them hurtling at Daisy.

Daisy stops in place and lifts her hands up, using her powers to blast the heavy pieces of the street directly back at him. Maw looks surprised, but he quickly snarls and waves them away with another quick gesture. Obsidian wrenches his weapon loose from the street, but as he does, Kara kicks at the back of his leg, sending him to one knee, and follows up with a punch to the side of his head. Before he can react, she catches his chin with a devastating uppercut that lifts him off his feet and sends him tumbling onto his back.

“Should we be helping?” Bruce asks.

Tony and Stephen exchange a glance.

“It looks like they have it handled,” Tony says. “I wouldn’t want to step on any toes here.”

“We can help out if it looks like they need it,” Stephen says.

Obsidian Cull somehow manages to push himself up to a standing position. Kara looks surprised for a moment, before a grin makes its way across her face. She drops into a fighting stance once more.

“I guess I don’t have to hold back with you,” Kara says.

Before she can attack, though, she sees Daisy wrapped up in light poles that move as sinuously as snakes. Daisy manages to use her powers to dissipate the poles, but it hardly matters as Maw uses his powers on her directly and slams her into the ground. Kara winces sympathetically.

“Want to switch?” Kara asks.

“Gladly,” Daisy says, through gritted teeth.

Kara flies straight at Maw as Daisy curls her hands up into fists and presses them against the asphalt to push herself up to a standing position. The massive figure of Obsidian Cull looms before her, his weapon resting heavily against his shoulder.

“Alright, let’s see what you got,” Daisy says.

Obsidian roars and swings his weapon directly at her just as Maw attempts to use his powers on Kara. He only manages to slow her down to a brisk jogging pace, and to retaliate she shoots her heat vision directly at him. He’s then forced to dodge out of the way, breaking the hold his powers have over her. Kara drops to her feet, fist clenched, and off to her side Daisy uses her powers to blast Obsidian’s weapon out of his hands. Daisy takes the small window of opportunity that’s been opened to her to blast him directly with a churning vibrational wave, which sends him flying.

Maw gets back up and dusts himself off, though he’s quickly met by another blast of heat vision. He uses his powers to rip up the street to shield himself with, and Kara uses her superspeed to blast forward, shattering the chunk of asphalt. Before Maw can react, Kara slams her fist into his head, knocking him out cold. He falls to the ground just as Obsidian gets back up, but Daisy is there to meet him, concentrated vibrational energy swirling about her fists. She punches at his gut, which doubles him over, and she finishes him off with an uppercut that sends him flying off his feet. Cracks appear in the asphalt where he finally lands, and his head lolls to the side.

“Not so tough,” Daisy says, once again adjusting her gauntlets.

“Okay, very cool and all, and thanks for your help, but this isn’t it,” Tony says. “Their big, scary boss is coming, and we need to be ready for him.”

Daisy and Kara exchange a look.

“I should get back to Kryptonia,” Daisy says. “We need to warn them and see if they can provide any help.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Kara says. “Let them know we’re okay. And call my aunt.”

Daisy grins.

“It’s always nice when Astra wants to throw down,” Daisy says. “I won’t be gone for long.”

“I think we all know how much I hate being the bearer of bad news, but the beam is completely shut off right now,” Tony says. “I don’t know how much I can say, but there’s some drama unfolding between the two worlds.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Daisy says. “I can find my own way there.”

Before Tony can say anything, she places her hand against her chest and uses her powers to change the vibrational frequencies of her own atoms, aligning them with the inherent background frequency of Universe Kryptonia. And just like that, before their very eyes, she vanishes.

Now, there’s nothing besides the sound of the howling wind.

“Did we all see that?” Bruce asks. “Did she just…”

He makes a hand gesture that reflects her sudden disappearance.

“Huh, I guess she can actually do that now,” Kara says. “It was all theoretical before.”

She says this as if it’s a comforting thought.

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, but alright. I’m a long-time proponent of leaping before you look,” Tony says. “Let’s just hope she didn’t show up in someone’s bathroom.”

* * *

Daisy does end up miscalculating the spot where she appears and ends up in the DEO locker rooms and not the command center, as she had originally hoped. After getting her bearings straight, she bursts out into the command center, nearly shocking an agent into dropping his clipboard.

“Daisy?” Alex asks. “What the hell are you doing here? We’ve been searching the whole city for you; you broke your house arrest!”

“I understand that’s not totally great, but we have bigger problems right now,” Daisy says.

“Do we?” Alex asks. “Sam and Kara were attacked earlier, as were Jemma and Lena at the L-Corp building! The president has authorized a complete lockdown on the beam. We have evidence that Ross is using the Last Patriots to influence the outcome of the Peace Talks!”

“Jemma was attacked?” Daisy asks. “Is she okay? What the hell is going on?”

“I’m fine.”

They all turn to see that Jemma has just entered the room, with Lena and Sam by her side, having been drawn by all of the commotion.

“But where have you been?” she asks, her face etched with concern. “You vanished for a while there, we were all so worried.”

Daisy can feel some of the panic fading from her body just from the mere presence of Jemma – Jemma, beautiful even as her hair has frizzled and has gotten scrapes and bruises from her recent fight.

“I’m sorry. I’m okay now,” Daisy says, taking a deep breath. “I guess I have a lot to explain.”

“You do,” Alex says. “Please.”

Daisy wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around Jemma, each one assuring the other that they’re okay and they’re both here, but given the darkening expressions on everyone’s faces, she knows that now is not the time. She sighs and puts her hands on her hips.

“Some genocidal maniac, ‘Thanos,’ wants to wipe out half of all life on Nordica, and if he discovers the beams, I’m sure he’d want to do the same here,” Daisy says. “We need to help them. Now.”

She quickly explains everything she knows and everything that’s happened to her, from being attacked in her apartment to the strange base and prison cells to the attack on New York in Nordica. Alex listens intently, a dour expression on her face.

“What do we do?” Vasquez asks. “The beam is closed off, and Daisy can only teleport herself between universes.”

“I’m getting really pissed off by all of the political maneuvering,” Daisy says. “I don’t care if the beam is on lockdown. We need to help.”

“We’re not authorized to act,” Alex says. “The orders just came to shut everything down.”

“Frankly, does that matter?” Jemma asks. “This is an absolutely existential threat. Are we just going to stand by and do nothing?”

“Do we have any credible evidence towards this ‘Thanos’ figure and his plans?” Vasquez asks. “Are we really going to risk a court martial over this? This is the kind of thing where the President will come down from on high and cast unholy judgement upon us.”

“Yes, we are. Look at me. You think I give a shit about a court martial?” Daisy asks. “If you want proof, all of the Avengers are taking this seriously. And two of Thanos’s ‘children’ have already started to collect the Infinity Stones. We need to take this seriously, too.”

“Even if we do go through with this, there is still the problem of getting to the beam itself,” Alex says. “Local military has set up a blockade around it. And no, we’re not fighting our way in.”

“I don’t care!” Daisy says. “You think I wouldn’t blast through whatever blockades they have set up? We have to help Nordica! Aren’t we supposed to be big heroes or something?”

The atmosphere in the room is taut and charged, like the moment in a storm that directly proceeds a lightning strike. Alex and Daisy are facing one another, the rest of the room fading into the background.

“I have no solid evidence as to how credible this threat is!” Alex says. “I can’t report to my superiors that I’m breaking through a military blockade because of what Bruce Banner said.”

Daisy clenches her fists, but Sam begins to bloodlet the tension in the room by grabbing Daisy’s wrist and placing herself between the two women.

“Kara isn’t here right now, but I know what she would do,” Sam says. “Let’s go down to the beam. And I promise that I won’t punch my way through this problem.”

Now Alex and Sam engage in a quick staring match, which ends with Alex sighing and shaking her head.

“Fine,” she says. “But if this goes wrong, it’s on you.”

“Understood.”

* * *

Sam flies out alone to the first blockade, where a squadron taken from the local military base guards it. Nobody is taking the total shutdown of the beam lightly – there are snipers on the rooftops, military vehicles of all make and model blocking the roads, and soldiers posted seemingly on every street corner and building entrance. They get denser closer to the beam facility.

The rest of them – Alex, Vasquez, Daisy, Jemma, Lena, and a handful of DEO agents – wait in unmarked SUVs, listening in on everything that’s happening. Sam had told them to wait for her and not to interfere, to avoid overwhelming any of the guards there. Alex hadn’t been a fan of this, but after seeing the look in her partner’s eye, she knew she couldn’t refuse.

Sam is dressed in full battle regalia – her heavily-armored black-and-gold suit and her flowing cape. Her mask is tucked beneath her arm; she doesn’t want to intimidate anyone too much, yet. She approaches the first blockade with purpose, making the soldiers stationed there shift in place and exchange glances and check their weaponry.

“Blackbird,” one of the soldiers addresses her. “We can’t let you through. We’re on strict orders.”

“I understand,” she says. “But, there’s a genocidal monster looking to end half of all life in Nordica, and that problem will soon become ours if he’s not stopped.”

“I haven’t heard any reports about this,” he says, clearly uncomfortable. “Don’t they have the Avengers over on that side? Can’t they stop him?”

“They’re going to need all the help they can get,” Sam says. “Now is not the time to hesitate. This is the time to act.”

When he doesn’t respond, she presses forward.

“If we were under attack, wouldn’t we want our neighbors to help us?” Sam asks. “Wouldn’t we appreciate that?”

“Look, my orders are very clear,” he reiterates, though his voice lacks conviction.

“This is a threat of an existential nature. This monster – Thanos – threatens to end half of all life in the entire universe. The scope of that loss of life is so vast that it’s almost incomprehensible,” she says. “Would you stand by and let that happen? There are so few moments that we can point to as they’re happening and recognize their weight. This is one of them.”

“Ma’am, I – ”

“In that moment, would you hesitate?” Sam asks. “Or would you act? Even in defiance of orders? Of laws? What do you believe in?”

He opens his mouth as if to speak, but doesn’t get the chance.

“Borders only exist to separate us,” Sam says. “We need to break them down.”

“Ma’am, we can’t…” the man says.

“Let her through,” another voice rises up – belonging to a harsh-looking woman, perhaps the leader of this squad. “I know that Supergirl trusts Blackbird. I trust her, too.”

A smile makes its way across Sam’s face. She didn’t know how much she needed to hear those exact words.

There’s a long moment of silence, though. Nobody else seems willing to make a move. Sam stands there, stoic, her cape flapping in the breeze.

“I do too,” another soldier finally speaks up. “I trust her.”

“Me too.”

Their voices suddenly rise up in the air as they affirm their agreement. They all stand aside, leaving an empty stretch of pavement for her.

“Alright then. Let’s go,” Sam says into her earpiece. “We have a universe to save.”

* * *

They stand before the beam, letting its unearthly, unnaturally bright light wash over them. So powerful is the light that it forces everything in the room to take on its color, in varying levels of saturation from a near-white blue to a dusty purple, closer to gray.

“Good job out there, Sam,” Alex says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Sam says, recognizing that Alex normally wouldn’t be even this sentimental in front of her agents. “I just said what I thought Supergirl would.”

Alex nods, looking very much for a moment like she’s going to kiss her, but instead simply places her hand on the shoulder pauldron of Sam’s armor and nods. Sam understands.

“Shall we?” Alex asks, nodding towards the beam.

“After you,” Sam says, grinning.

As they step through the beam, Daisy finally allows herself to fuss over Lena and Jemma.

“And you two are okay, clearly,” Daisy says. “I can’t believe you were attacked in your office.”

“I was lucky that Jemma was nearby,” Lena says. “I suppose I’ve never seen you fight like that. I was quite impressed.”

“Well, your excellent engineering of my prosthetic really saved us,” Jemma says. “I finally got to use this feature!”

She extends the blade from her prosthetic are once again, to laughter from Daisy and Jemma.

“I can handle myself,” Jemma says. “I’m combat-trained, after all.”

“I know,” Daisy sighs. “I can’t help but worry. Bad things seem to happen to people close to me.”

“Well, luckily my arm has a built-in shield,” Jemma says, and quickly realizes that, for once, humor isn’t quite reaching Daisy. “Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Daisy says. “Are you sure you want to fight with us?”

“Of course,” Jemma says. “I can help. And, besides, I know you always have my back.”

“I do,” Daisy says, smiling. “I guess I just don’t want you to lose your other arm.”

Jemma laughs at this.

“Well, I wouldn’t want Lena and Fitz to make another one for me,” Jemma says.

“I don’t mind,” Lena says. “It reminds me of my robotics classes in college.”

“In that case, I guess we should go do this thing,” Daisy says.

Never one for decorum, she leans forward and captures Jemma’s lips in a quick kiss. They both hug Lena before they all travel through the beam, ending up deposited in the sister facility. Once there, Jemma pulls out a comms device and brings up the direct line for Coulson.

“Hey,” Jemma says. “Where’s the action?”

* * *

They meet up with Coulson outside of a SHIELD operating base on the water, a typical refueling spot for overseas missions. He’s standing there, being buffeted by the briny wind, with Mack, Yo-Yo, Bobbi, Hunter, and Fitz by his side. The ocean looks surprisingly subdued, however, like there’s something actively dampening the waves.

“We couldn’t have met inside?” Daisy asks.

“You know I like a little drama,” Coulson says. “Besides, I just got authorization to use these.”

He presses a button on the tablet he’s holding, and suddenly an entire Helicarrier appears behind them like a patchwork quilt coming together all at once, the active stealth deactivating in large, square sections at a time. Suddenly, the appearance of the waves makes a lot more sense. And who’s standing at the bow of the mighty vessel but Nick Fury himself, his black coat flapping in the wind.

“I’m glad you all could make it,” he says. “The situation looks like it’s about to go South very quickly. Thankfully, I’ve called for some backup.”

“Backup?” Mack asks. “I don’t see any backup.”

“You don’t think the Helicarrier is enough, Agent Mackenzie?” Fury asks. “And don’t worry. My backup – she’ll show up right on time.”

Daisy and Jemma exchange a glance at that.

* * *

“Yibambe!” T’Challa voice carries across the grassy plain, and is echoed back to him a hundredfold by the Wakandan warriors behind him.

“Yibambe!”

“Yibambe!”

This is where they make their stand. An impressive contingent of Avengers have shown up, ready to stop Thanos, whatever it takes. Steve, Tony, Sam Wilson, Rhodes, Bruce, and Strange are down on the field, ready to take on all comers. Shuri is desperately working on Vision, with Wanda, Natasha, Bucky, and Peter protecting her.

They’ve done what they can to stymie the flood of Outriders that scrabble and snarl at the barrier surrounding the battlefield and city, but their air support has been intercepted by ships from Thanos’s invasion force. Kara is doing her best to act as a one-woman air force, but there seems to be an endless amount of attacking ships. Now, the Outriders threaten to surround them, beginning to sprint around the perimeter of the barrier, so T’Challa has been forced to make a choice.

Open up a section of the barrier to allow them in, or let them surround the barrier.

“Now!” he shouts.

His artillery units lob iridescent projectiles of pure energy at the Outriders. These projectiles explode with a satisfying, bassy thrum and send chunks of dirt and grass flying into the air. This slows their progress, but the flood of the animalistic, four-armed aliens overwhelms even the devastating destructive capability of their artillery. As he had feared, this fight is going to have come down to physical combat.

He orders to artillery to stop firing. The battlefield becomes oddly silent, save for the snarling of the Outriders and their claws ripping up the ground. He starts the chant again.

“Yibambe!”

“YIBAMBE!”

_“YIBAMBE!”_

The Wakandan army charges. He and Steve sprint across the grass, outpacing the rest by multitudes. The horde of Outriders seems to become excited at the battle to come, and their snarls rise in intensity.

Steve slams his fist right against the head of one of them, surprised by how hardy and tough their hide is. It stumbles backward from his blow, though, so he knows he’ll have a fighting chance here. To his side, T’Challa is swiping his vibranium claws straight through the skin of these beasts, their blows glancing off his armor in return.

Steve hears the sound of repulsors overhead and glances overhead briefly to see that Stark, Wilson, and Rhodes are flying towards the opening in the barrier. They spread out and drop explosives, fire repulsor blasts, and lay down machine gun fire on the Outriders before they can even join the fight. They’re doing an admirable job, but Thanos seems to have an endless supply of the crazed beasts, and they continue to flow into the battlefield.

For every one of the Outriders that Steve seems to take down, two more spring in its place. He’s just pulling the points of his Vibranium shield bracers out of one of them when another leaps right at him. He ducks and rolls, only to see one more bounding towards him. He braces himself and protects his face from the attack, and the beast slams against his shields and sends him flying backwards. He lands on his back and rolls backwards, and suddenly, three of them are on him. They’re a flurry of talons and teeth, and he’s forced to turtle up just to survive.

But, as quickly as the attack started, it’s over. Steve looks up to see Strange floating above him, the Outriders clutched in strange, demonic hands that drag them down into the ground. Strange makes his way across the battlefield, helping out where he can. He helps M’Baku by freezing the beasts around him, teleports an entire pack of them into deep space using his sling-ring, and saves Bruce by momentarily surrounding him with a magical shield. He tries to be everywhere at once, even using his powers to create copies of himself to send around the battlefield.

Steve and T’Challa once again find themselves fighting back-to-back, taking on any Outrider that gets close. Between their super-strength, fighting prowess, and vibranium tech, they’re a formidable force. T’Challa even begins to think that the tide of the battle is beginning to turn when his comms device once again crackles to life.

“The sensors are going crazy,” Shuri says. “There’s something entering the upper atmosphere!”

“What is it?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But it’s huge!”

“Keep monitoring it,” he says. “We need to make sure we…”

He lets his voice trail off as he looks upwards, Shuri still shouting in his ear. Thanos’s massive ship has entered the atmosphere, pushing halfway through the cloud cover like some sort of horrible, massive wraith. The cannons on the ship all aim directly at the barrier. Before he can even shout the command for everyone to take cover, the ship begins to fire. Huge, blood-red bolts of energy slam against the barrier, causing it to fizzle and start to fade.

“Everyone, to me!” Strange shouts.

He and his many magical clones are creating a massive, crackling, orange shield above them, and T’Challa hopes that it can handle the destructive prowess of those guns.

“I’m on it!” Kara yells.

She rockets up towards the massive ship and heads towards the closest cannon. Angry, red lasers shoot out of her eyes at the enormous gun until it explodes, a blast of fire, smoke, and shrapnel rushing over her and glancing off of her impenetrable skin and armor. She moves to the next gun, and the next, and the next, but even with her strength and speed it’s not fast enough. Below her, the barrier fizzles and fades away entirely beneath the ruthless bombardment.

“C’mon,” Kara shouts, pounding her chest as she wills her heat vision to even greater levels. “C’mon!”

Her eyes flash red and her heat vision becomes momentarily unstable, crackling and hissing, as it blasts through three guns at once; they explode one after another, creating a dazzling display of pyrotechnics. And still, it isn’t enough. Down below, Strange is struggling to maintain his shield against the steady onslaught of the remaining guns.

“C’mon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I love feedback! Everything's really going down right now, and will continue to do so lol. How about badass Jemma, huh??


	9. King of Piss and Paper (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ready for a big, messy battle?

Klaxons are going off in the command center of the lead Helicarrier.

“Why is it always klaxons?” Coulson asks. “Loud klaxons?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Mack says.

“What do we have on sensors?” Coulson asks.

“There’s a massive ship above Wakanda,” Alex says flatly. “Looks like trouble. Is there a way we could get there faster?”

Just as Coulson is about to answer her, dark clouds gather around the Helicarrier and the smell of ozone permeates the air. Alex leans over the monitor in front of her, her brow furrowed as every sensor goes wild. And then, with a chest-rattling rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning, Thor appears in the center of a great, runic pattern, accompanied by Valkyrie and the Guardians of the Galaxy, save for Gamora. He has a dark expression on his face, his mighty axe, Stormbreaker, hoisted over one shoulder.

“Son of Coul. Fury,” he says. “I thought that was you. Are you all here for Thanos?”

“We are,” Coulson says. “You?”

“I thought I’d help out,” Thor says, idly studying the blade of his great weapon.

“You can start doing that now,” Sam says. “We need to get to Wakanda.”

“And who are you?” Thor asks.

Sam grins.

“You’ll figure it out. Just try and keep up.”

With that, she flies out of the command center, a sonic boom exploding in her wake as she effortlessly breaks the sound barrier. Thor grins in turn and follows after her.

* * *

Kara clenches her fists and swallows heavily as she works to catch her breath, her armor seeming to constrict the rise and fall of her chest. She’s taken down nearly half of the cannon installments, but she can feel her energy waning. The people down below are suffering, though, and Strange’s shield is flickering from the constant bombardment. She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, and when she opens them again she sees a streak of black and a chain of explosions rising from the other side of the ship.

The streak slows and she sees that it’s Sam, in full battle regalia. Instead of using her heat vision, she simply used her body as a battering ram and flew straight through half of the remaining guns, destroying them all. Sam catches her gaze, nods, and repeats the procedure, creating another stunning wave of explosions. The people below look up to see smoke trailing out of the massive ship and all of the gun installments completely destroyed. Strange lets his arms drop and his magical clones dissipate as he falls to one knee, his mouth hanging open limply as he desperately sucks in air.

Kara had thought that the light show was over when tremulous, bassy rumble rolls across the landscape and suddenly, the great ship is ablaze with lightning. She spots an armored figure atop the ship wielding an axe that is now embedded in the metal plating. The lightning dissipates after a moment, but all of the ship’s lights seem to have gone dim, and instead of hovering menacingly in the air it begins to slowly drift downwards.

“Sam!” Kara shouts, eyes wide. “We need to stop this thing from hitting the ground!”

“Right behind you!”

Before they can fly off, though, the figure from atop the ship joins them.

“How can I help?” he asks.

“This is Thor,” Sam says, nodding towards him. “He’s strong and he can fly, so we can probably use him.”

“Pick a spot on this thing and push,” Kara says. “I want it in the upper atmosphere at least.”

If he’s surprised by the ambition of what they’re planning on doing, he doesn’t show it. He simply nods as they all disperse, spreading themselves out beneath the ship. Both he and Sam look to Kara, who nods once, and they all begin pushing upwards.

“What are they doing?” Rhodes asks from below.

“I think they’re… getting rid of it,” Tony says, a bit dumbly.

Kara grits her teeth, all of her muscles straining as they struggle to reverse the momentum of the enormous ship. A scream rips from her throat, unbidden, as she forces her tired body to work harder and harder.

Finally, though, the ship no longer seems to be working against them and now seems to be suspended in place, the force of its downward momentum now equivalent to the upward thrust of the two Kryptonians and Asgardian.

“Come on, you damn thing!” Thor shouts. “Move!”

Perhaps inspired by him, Kara screams again, though this time she means it. Her voice echoes across the battlefield and is enough to inspire Thor to join in, roaring as he pushes his muscles further and further. Sam whoops as well, and soon, the massive ship is moving with them, not against them. That first shift in momentum is enough to send a surge of energy and determination through them all, and the more they push now the easier it gets.

However, there comes a great wrenching of metal as someone, or something, manages to force the ship’s bay doors open. So distracted are Sam and Kara by their herculean efforts to push the ship into space that they hardly notice the beasts that come rushing out, but Thor does. He recognizes the massive, floating monsters as the Leviathans that had terrorized New York during Loki’s invasion, and he counts at least thirty of them before he forces himself to focus on the task at hand.

Most of the Leviathans fly right past them, intent on getting to the battlefield below, but a few notice them and prepare to attack. Kara attempts to muster up the energy to use her heat vision, but with so much spent on her upwards flight, the resulting beams from her eyes barely injure the oncoming beast.

Just as the Leviathan is almost upon her, looking to knock her away, and explosion bursts in the air right next to its head and blows it off its course. It roars in pain and tries to correct its course when another explosion strikes it in its middle, huge chunks of its armor flying off from the impact. Kara turns around to see a Helicarrier appear in the air just behind her, its multitude of guns aimed at the many Leviathans around them.

Before long, they’re rocketing up through the cloud cover, up, up, until the air gets cold and thin and the curvature of the earth becomes clear. Once they reach the first inky tendrils of space, they give the ship one last great shove and it drifts off into the great unknown so it can harm the earth no more. Kara nods at both of her compatriots before they all descend upon the battlefield.

* * *

Even with Thanos’s capital ship gone, there are still seemingly endless waves of Outriders to deal with, joined now by the Leviathans. The massive, flying monsters make swooping passes over the battlefield, taking out whole battalions of Wakandan troops at a time.

“We can’t continue to sustain these losses!” T’Challa calls out.

As if to answer him, Thor lands in the midst of a swirling swarm of Outriders and swings Stormbreaker in an arc above his head, its blade landing in the ground and sending out a wave of lightning that takes down swathes of the snarling beasts at once. He looks up to see Sam streaking through the air and slamming her fist against the head of one of the Leviathans, which roars in pain and slowly keels towards the ground. Behind her, Kara flies directly at another one of the great, flying monsters. At the last moment, she flips around, kicking with both legs. The Leviathan careens towards the ground, much like the one that Sam punched.

“Nice one,” Sam shouts.

Kara grins.

“Double-leg kick,” she shouts back. “I’ve always been a fan of that one.”

* * *

Further away, Steve is still getting swarmed by the Outriders, and he’s not getting any less tired. He desperately jabs the tips of both of his shields into the neck of one only for two others to claw at his back. They eventually find purchase and throw him off of his feet and onto his back, only for more to immediately swarm him. He tries to fight back at first but the weight of the beasts upon him makes it difficult to breathe, so the most he can do is cover his face with his shields.

Just as it seems that all hope is lost, he hears the faint hum of a Quinjet’s engines, followed by a deep rumble. It’s almost like the thunder that accompanies Thor, but it’s deeper, lower, as if it’s bubbling up from the depths of the Earth itself.

And then, the ground explodes all around him.

The Outriders yelp desperately as they’re tossed up into the air before slamming back down onto the ruined ground. Steve turtles up to avoid getting struck by the chunks of the ground that are still being tossed all around him as if they’re weightless. Eventually, though, the ground stops churning around him, and all is silent, save for the faint sounds of fighting in the distance. Slowly, he looks up to see a woman with short, dark hair slowly lower her gauntleted hand, accompanied by another woman. They both rush to his side, and the first woman helps him stand up with surprising ease – she’s strong.

“Up you go,” she says. “Can’t have Captain America taken down by these ugly things.”

He chuckles.

“Thanks for the assist,” he says. “You clearly know who I am. Who are you two?”

“Daisy Johnson.”

“Jemma Simmons.”

* * *

 

Thor roars and brings Stormbreaker down into one of the Leviathans. Lightning arcs of the beast and strikes two more around it, bringing all three of them down. Just beyond them all, Tony is fire repulsor blast after blast into a Leviathan that’s determinedly chasing him. Finally, he swears and uses one of the one-use lasers, slicing straight through the beast. It falls to the ground, defeated.

“You’re losing your edge, Stark,” Thor shouts.

“This is my most advanced suit yet,” Tony answers flatly.

“Well, it’s still not as good as this.”

Thor spins Stormbreaker in his hands. Behind them comes the sound of someone yelling and they turn to see Valkyrie, atop her majestic, winged horse, use her spear to slice upon a Leviathan from tip to end.

“Are you going to keep bantering or are you going to fight?” she shouts before soaring off to take down another one of the flying beasts.

Below them, with all of the new help, they finally begin to turn the tide against the Outriders. Daisy is a terror, using her powers to blast tens of Outriders away at a time, and Sam takes breaks from taking down Leviathans with single blows to swoop down into the battlefield, her fists outstretched, bulldozing groups of Outriders all at once.  

“Captain, I was thinking,” T’Challa says over the comms.

“Go ahead,” Steve answers.

“We’re fighting Thanos’s monsters. We’re fighting his lieutenants. We’re fighting his ship. So, where is Thanos?”

As if to answer them, an unearthly crackling comes from above them, echoing across the grassy plain and off the mountains, and the clouds begin to glow an unnatural red. Everyone turns to look skyward – even the Outriders seem to stop their advance for a moment. And what comes bursting through the clouds but Thanos’s ship, somehow completely intact, guns, and all, a dark blight upon the blue Wakandan sky.

“I don’t understand,” Thor says. “We had destroyed its weaponry. Pushed it into space.”

“Apparently, that wasn’t enough,” Sam says, clenching her fists.

“We all have a really bad feeling about this, yes?” Tony asks.

Practically in response, a swirling portal appears in the middle of the battlefield. Everyone clenches their weapons a bit more tightly as who else appears but Thanos, in full armor and with a massive sword strapped to his back. The gauntlet is wearing is still incomplete, though that’s of little comfort as he has collected the Reality, Space, Power, and Soul Stones.

“I’m here for the remaining Stones,” he says. “If you wish to relinquish them now, I won’t hold it against you. You’ve all proven yourselves as formidable warriors.”

“To hell with that,” Thor says.

He throws Stormbreaker with a mighty heave, directly at Thanos’s chest. Almost casually, Thanos activates the Space Stone and disappears from view. The battlefield falls silent.

He sudden appears directly behind Thor, grabs him by the back of the neck, and slams him into the dirt. The battlefield erupts into activity. The Outriders howl and attack with a renewed ferocity, forcing the gathered heroes to contend with them, while the heavy-hitters – Kara and Sam – step up to face Thanos.

“Don’t let him activate the gauntlet!” Bruce calls out over comms. “Don’t let him close his fist!”

“You ready?” Kara asks.

“Always,” Sam says.

She slams her fist into her palm, creating a small thunderclap.

Before Thanos can slam his foot into Thor’s head, Kara flies directly at him and grabs his gauntleted hand. She torques her body forward, using her momentum to slam him into the ground. As he pushes himself back up, Sam is right there, bringing her knee up into his chin with a sickening crack. He flies back, skidding against the dirt, and Kara shoots after him. Just as she’s about to slam her fist into his face, he activates the Power Stone, using it to increase his durability.

Kara’s blow lands, though with less impact than she would’ve liked. Thanos uses this split-second pause to use the Power Stone to blast her across the battlefield. She isn’t able to react in time and she goes flying, skidding along the ground like a rock skipping on a lake, and lands about a hundred yards away. Purple smoke slowly rises from her body and she groans, trying and failing to push herself up. She collapses back on the ground, unconscious.

“Kara!” Sam shouts.

Wasting no time, she flies directly at Thanos, her fists extended. All he can do is once again activate the Power Stone to increase his durability, and Sam’s double-fisted blow to his midsection only sends him stumbling back a few paces. Not one to be deterred, however, Sam grabs his gauntleted hand, wrenches his arm back, and tosses him to the ground. She gets atop him and begins raining blows down on his head, each one more ferocious than the last.

Amidst this furious onslaught, however, he’s able to grab her cape and wrench her off of him, tossing her a few feet to his side. She quickly gets back up and charges at him again, though this time he’s ready. He uses the Space Stone to teleport her into one of the terrible landing craft, filled with Outriders. The beasts snap their jaws at her and snarl, though she just grins.

“You think this is going to stop me?” Sam asks, her eyes flashing red.

As her heat vision lights up the clouds above, Thor grabs Stormbreaker, staring down Thanos. A silence falls over the battlefield. Lightning crawls across Thor and his mighty weapon, brilliantly arcing off of him in sudden, brief moments. Thanos grabs the massive, double-bladed sword off his back with his free hand and activates the gauntlet, the sword surrounded by a purple aura, courtesy of the Power Stone.

Finally, they charge at one another. Thanos slices his blade laterally at Thor, who ducks beneath it, spins, and swings Stormbreaker in response. The blow nearly lands, but Thanos dodges at the last moment. He brings his blade overhead and swings down, but Thor is quick to block it with his own weapon. Incredibly, Stormbreaker holds up against the Power Stone-enhanced sword. A great display of lightning bursts from where the weapons meet, striking Thanos, though he’s protected by the Power Stone.

They both draw their weapons back, and Thor is about to swing his again when Thanos activates his gauntlet once again, using the Space Stone to increase the distance between him and Thor, the ground unfurling impossibly between them. He then throws his sword at him, but makes it vanish with the power of the Stones. Thor grips Stormbreaker tightly, ready for anything, and the still-spinning sword bursts out from the ground beneath him. It’s not quite enough to damage him seriously; his cloak of lightning, armor, and natural durability holding up against the spinning blades, but the sheer force of the impact is enough to send him flying through the air. Stormbreaker flies from his grasp, clattering against the ground several yards away.

Thanos uses the Stones to teleport to where Thor is going to land and grabs him by the neck. He slams him furiously into the ground, grabs his sword with the other hand, and prepares to stab downward. Thor manages to dodge at the last moment, so Thanos instead activates the Power Stone and slam his fists into Thor’s face. Even Thor knows that his godly constitution won’t be able to hold up to this beating forever. He lifts his hand, calling Stormbreaker to him, but Thanos quickly recognizes what he’s doing. He holds up his hand, hoping to intercept the mighty weapon, but there’s a sudden flash of red and blue and Stormbreaker is gone from sight.

There’s a great crackle of lightning and both Thor and Thanos turn to see Kara standing before them, brandishing Stormbreaker like it was made for her. Thor grins.

Kara takes off like a bullet and shoulder-checks Thanos once again, sending him stumbling. She uses Stormbreaker like she’s been training with it for all her life, the great axe glittering beneath the sun as she furiously attacks Thanos, preventing him from even ever getting his footing. She’s faster than Thor, which allows her to blitz Thanos with ease, and it’s clear that he’s having trouble keeping up.

Finally, Kara swings Stormbreaker, its blade finding its target as it embeds itself into Thanos’s armor, in his midsection. Thanos has the Power Stone activating, which is increasing his durability, but Stormbreaker is strong, and Kara is even stronger. She tries to keep pressing the blade into him, even though he’s using both hands to try and push it away. Kara, seeing this and realizing the strength of the weapon she’s wielding, uses her heat vision on Stormbreaker. The otherworldly metal slowly begins to glow red and Thanos winces in pain as the burning blade makes its way through his armor and presses directly against his skin.

Using what strength he has left, he clenches his gauntleted hand, activates a Power Stone, and lands an enhanced punch on Kara, sending her soaring. Stormbreaker flies out of her grip, clattering against the ground. Thor has recovered, though, and he calls the weapon to him as he pushes himself back to his feet. He charges at Thanos, though the mad titan clearly has his attention elsewhere, and Thor notices where too late. Thanos has his gaze set on Shuri’s lab. He activates the gauntlet and a portal swallows him whole.

“No!” Thor bellows.

Thor charges, but is too slow. The four Avengers guarding Vision – Wanda, Natasha, Bucky, and Peter – seem shocked to see him suddenly in the room with them, though Wanda narrows her eyes and leaps into action. She sends two bolts of crackling, red energy at him. The first one strikes his chest, sending him stumbling backwards, but he manages to activate the Power Stone before the second one hits him, and it dissipates harmlessly.

“He’s after the Mind Stone!” Thor roars, before he too flies towards the action.

Tony hears this and follows along, pushing his suit to fly as fast as it can go. As he’s just outside the lab, the glass windows all burst at once and Natasha and Bucky come flying out, both clearly unconscious. Peter is blown out as well, but he still has his wits about him, as he desperately shoots one web down towards Bucky and the other towards any solid surface.

“I’ve got Nat! Focus on Bucky, kid!” Tony shouts.

“I’ll try my best!”

After two missed attempts, Peter’s third string of webbing manages to stick to the outside of the spire that Shuri’s lab is in, and he swings down to the battlefield as gracefully as he can with an unconscious Bucky in his arms. Above him, Tony arcs down towards Natasha and delicately scoops her up in her arms. He sets her down next to Bucky, and after a few moments, they both groan and slowly come to.

“Look after them,” Tony says.

Peter nods.

Tony rockets back up towards the lab to see Wanda desperately holding Thanos back, waves and waves of crackling, red energy washing over him. Thanos is clearly trying to close his fist, and Tony is quick to shoot out a makeshift device made from the nanoparticles of his suit that force the gauntlet to stay open. Thor pushes himself back to his feet, using Stormbreaker is a crutch. He staggers towards Thanos, each step steadier than the last, and he raises his mighty weapon above his head. Without hesitating, he brings it down upon Thanos.

Who dissipates into red smoke.

“No!” Thor shouts. “He must be using the Reality Stone. Where is he?”

“On it,” Tony says, using his suit’s sensors to scan for the Mad Titan. “He’s out there, and – oh shit.”

“What is it?” Thor asks.

“Strange,” is all that Tony needs to say before he and Thor rocket back towards the battlefield.

Thanos has Dr. Strange in a chokehold, the Sorcerer Supreme’s magic not enough to stand up to the might of the still-incomplete Infinity Gauntlet.

“There’s an enchantment on the Eye of Agamotto,” Strange says, clearly trying desperately to keep his cool. “You won’t be able to take it by force.”

“You think so little of me?” Thanos asks, as if chiding a child.

Thanos activates the Reality Stone, using it to wipe away the enchantment upon the Eye. With that, he reaches for the glowing, green Stone, crushing the Eye along the way, and places it in the gauntlet. He clenches his fists as the energy surges through him.

Thor and Tony get there a half-second too late.

“Lightning,” Tony says.

Thor understands immediately and calls a huge bolt of lightning to strike Tony, whose suit absorbs its energy. Tony then unleashes that energy directly at Thanos, who barely has time to activate the Power Stone to shield himself from the beam’s worst effects. The beam dissipates and Thanos is still standing there, his armor slightly marred, but otherwise unaffected.

Thor launches into an all-out assault upon Thanos, Stormbreaker spinning through the air, lightning arcing off of it in a stunning display of its power. Tony joins in as well, finding moments to shoot out blasts with his repulsor gauntlets. Their fight immediately garners the attention of everyone around them. Even Daisy disentangles herself from a scrap with some Outriders and tries to blast Thanos with her vibrational powers.

Thanos remains unscathed, however, dodging each blow with seeming ease. Thor roars in frustration and doubles his efforts, to no avail.

“Wait, Thor, the gauntlet!” Tony shouts.

Thor looks down to see that Thanos has had the gauntlet activated this entire time, a sickly green glow emanating from the Time Stone.

“Yes, the gauntlet,” Thanos says. “You’re all impressive fighters. But nothing is faster than time.”

That jogs something in Daisy’s memory, and a grin makes its way to her face.

“Nothing faster, huh?”

With that, she slams her palm against her chest and blinks out of view.

* * *

“The lab is destroyed,” Shuri says. “I can’t work on Vision like this.”

“We need to move Vision from the battlefield,” T’Challa says into his comms. “Anyone?”

“Take me, too!” Shuri says. “I might be able to keep working on him.”

“We’re on it,” Rhodes says, before nodding at Wilson. “We’ll take him up to the Helicarrier.”

The two of them shoot through the sky towards Shuri’s ruined lab. Vision is still there, miraculously, though it’s clear he’s still deactivated and defenseless. Wilson grabs him as Rhodes scoops Shuri up in the arms of his suit, making their way through the sky as Valkyrie continues to carve up Leviathans like they’re nothing. 

The agents of SHIELD are there to greet them, and Fitz and Shuri immediately start tending to Vision, taking him to the limited scientific facilities on board. Coulson follows along to make sure they have everything they need. When it’s clear that they quickly descend into their own world of technical speak, Coulson goes to check on Lena, who’s been working hard in the lab this entire time.

“How’s it going, Lena?” Coulson asks.

“Wonderfully,” Lena says, double-checking the readings on the sensor array that she brought from her labs. “That gauntlet of his, along with the Infinity Stones, are extremely powerful. But, they can still be explained away with science.”

“What’ve you found?” Mack asks.

“Gamma radiation,” Lena says, swinging a display towards Mack and Coulson. “I know how to dampen gamma radiation.”

“You have something in that magic bag of yours that’ll do that?” Mack asks, nodding towards the duffel bag she had brought.

“In a sense,” Lena says.

She kneels by the bag and unzips it, taking out a svelte, rectangular box. Mack and Coulson regard it curiously.

“Portable 3D printer,” she says, smiling. “Never leave home without it.”

“Yeah, I can see why you and Jemma are such good friends,” Coulson says.

* * *

Kara, just now recovering from the direct blast from the Power Stone, has also joined the fight. They know that they can’t do anything to harm Thanos, not with the Time Stone activated, but they’ve noticed that as long as they keep pressuring him, he can’t focus enough to use the other Stones. Kara attacks ferociously, calling upon all her combat training and Kryptonian abilities to put up an unrelenting assault upon the Mad Titan. Since she knows that he’s simply going to use the Time Stone to dodge everything, however, she sticks to basic moves, not giving him a chance to analyze her complete fighting style. She ducks and weaves like a kickboxer, throwing punches and kicks with practiced ease. Even with her Kryptonian stamina, however, she knows she can’t keep this up forever. She only hopes that Daisy finishes her plan quickly.

* * *

“Why does everyone always want me to do that?”

“It’s sort of your thing,” Daisy says. “This is serious. You have to go faster than you ever have before.”

“How will I know who my target is?”

“Oh, you’ll know. Now get going. I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

Thanos has Thor in a chokehold with his free hand while dodging and blocking attacks from Kara with the other. Stormbreaker floats somewhere in deep space, having been teleported by Thanos, and Thor begins to worry that it won’t make it back before he blacks out from the pressure on his neck.

Perhaps getting tired of this display, Thanos slams Thor into the ground with the help of the Power Stone, knocking him out completely for the time being. He then uses the Space Stone to freeze Kara in place before blasting her with the Power Stone. She also slumps to the ground, barely conscious. Tony, who had been trying to run interference, also meets a similar fate, a quick blast from the Space Stone scattering the nanomachines of his suit across the battlefield. He calls them back to him, but it won’t happen quickly enough to protect him if Thanos decides to attack him again.

As Tony begins to seriously wonder if they’ll have any chance at all at defeating Thanos, a deafening boom sounds in the distance. Tony begins to look off to determine where it came from, and in that split-second, another ear-splitting sound like a thunderclap explodes right in front of him. So loud is this sound that it seems to knock out all of Tony’s senses at once, the only sensation remaining the faint sense of the wind travelling over his skin as he flies through the air, having been knocked off his feet.

For a second, though he’s half-aware that his eyes are open, all he can see is white and all he can hear is an overwhelming ringing in his ears. The world seems to be unfolding in slow motion around him, and over the course of what feels like several minutes, though likely only happens in seconds, his vision slowly starts to return to him. He sees Thanos down on one knee, his armor ruined and blasted off of him as he desperately protects himself with both hands. He’s disoriented to the point that he’s not activating the gauntlet.

A woman – Daisy, Tony eventually remembers – is walking steadily towards him, both of her hands extended as she blasts the Mad Titan with her powers. Another figure, in a distinctive red suit, is crouched down, breathing hard.

_Get the gauntlet._

_The gauntlet!_

_Get the gauntlet!_

Tony tries to say this several times until he realizes he’s simply saying it. He slowly opens his mouth, as if remembering how his muscles works, and forms the words slowly but deliberately.

“Get the gauntlet!”

This seems to snap the world back into action.

Daisy snarls and redoubles the strength of her vibrational waves, concentrating them so they fire directly at the gauntlet, making it impossible for him to close his hand. Valkyrie flies in from on high, her white horse gleaming in the sun. She grabs his other hand and holds it back, and when he begins to struggle free from her grasp, Thor leaps in next to her. Dr. Strange uses his magic to summon demonic hands from below, all of which grab on to his legs to keep him in place. Peter swings in as well, webbing the Mad Titan to the ground with as many anchor points as he can manage.

Even with this all, Thanos is still struggling to close the gauntlet. Tony knows that if he activates even one Stone, all of their advantage could be lost.

“Hey, San Andreas, ease up for a second, would you?” Tony shouts.

Daisy nods and stops her onslaught as he redirects half of all of the nanomachines from his suit to the gauntlet, forming an even stronger structure to prevent him from closing his hand.

“Someone take that damn thing off of him!” Thor shouts.

As if to answer his request, Kara and Sam both touch down in front of Thanos. They waste no time as they begin pulling the gauntlet off. It’s slow going, given that it seems to be bonded to him as if by magic, but the might of two Kryptonians cannot be outdone. The gauntlet begins to come off, slowly but surely.

Thanos mumbles something and Thor grins.

“What was that?” he taunts. “Ready to wave the white flag?”

“I didn’t think that you would fall for the same trick twice.”

Tony knows what’s going to happen just as it starts to. Thanos dissolves into red mist, all of their efforts to remove the gauntlet for naught. They all scan the battlefield, desperately trying to find where he’s gone.

“Lena!” Kara screams, and rockets up towards the Helicarrier.

* * *

Fitz and Shuri stand in front of Vision, each of them brandishing a different piece of lab equipment as Thanos regards them curiously, as if he’s wondering why such lesser creatures would even attempt to stand up to him. Lena kneels by her 3D printer, her hands behind her back.

“I understand your desire to protect your friend,” Thanos says. “Admirable, but foolish. And needless. This could’ve all been done without bloodshed.”

“No it couldn’t have,” Fitz says. “These things are always done with bloodshed.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Thanos says.

Thanos activates the gauntlet, using the Space Stone to “pull” Vision towards himself, the room compressing in order to make this happen.

“Well, I’m sure not sorry about this,” Lena says.

As she says that, she lobs the device she has hidden behind her back at Thanos. Before he can react, it bursts in mid-air, sending a bassy thrum through the room. Lena shields her eyes reflexively, though she knows it’s no danger to her. When she looks back up Thanos is attempting to activate the gauntlet, but the Stones appear dull and lifeless. Nothing happens.

“What did you do?” Thanos asks.

“Science, asshole,” Lena says.

Thanos rounds on her, but with the whistling of wind and the rending of metal, he’s no longer there anymore.

Kara has him by the ruined collar of his armor, the wind howling around them as she pushes him upwards to where the air gets cold and thin. She winds up and catches his chin with a devastating punch that sends him soaring upwards, faster than even her. As she readies a second crushing punch, a glowing figure descends from above and grabs Thanos’s head before speeding back towards the ground.

“Sorry for stealing him!” the glowing figure shouts.

“He’s all yours,” Kara shouts back, before following after them.

Thanos is slammed into the ground with such force that a great rumbling rolls across the Wakandan landscape, almost as if Daisy has triggered an earthquake. A huge plume of dirt rises up to the air and slowly disperses, leaving the glowing figure – Carol Danvers –still pressing Thanos’s head into the ground.

Kara touches down just in front of him, the dust and dirt parting in her wake.

“He’s all yours,” Carol echoes, gesturing to Thanos.

Kara nods and hoists him up to his knees by his collar. Thanos doesn’t resist as he struggles to hold on to his consciousness. As they stare one another down, another figure, dressed in all black, touches down beside them. The ground cracks beneath their boots and a great rumbling reverberates around them. 

“Astra,” Kara greets, awe in her voice.

“Sorry I’m late, little one,” she says. “You know I can’t resist a fight against a crazed tyrant.”

Thanos scowls at her.

“One of you, grab his gauntlet,” Kara says, nodding down towards it. “We need it off.”

Carol does so, beginning to pull, as Kara glares furiously into Thanos’s eyes. Out from the swirling dust around them, more of her fellow heroes begin to appear. Thor appears from behind and puts Thanos in a chokehold, hoping to ensure that he won’t escape. Sam is suddenly there as well, grabbing Thanos’s other arm and wrenching it backwards, threatening to break it. Valkyrie descends from on high and dismounts her winged horse, shoving her spear through Thanos’s leg, anchoring him in place. Stark, Rhodes, and Wilson all hover above them, aiming all of their weapons at Thanos’s head in case he tries anything. The Flash, recovered from the blistering speeds at which he ran to land that punch on Thanos, stands there with his hand vibrating at dangerous speeds, mere inches from the Mad Titan’s chest. Astra pulls out a strange, glittering, black sword of Kryptonian make from its sheath and points it at Thanos’s throat.

They all appear from the dust after that. Daisy. Jemma. Steve. Natasha. Bruce. T’Challa. Wanda. Strange. Peter. Wanda. Bucky. The Guardians. Everyone.

Carol’s glowing aura flares and grows as she exerts more and more effort to remove the gauntlet. It’s so close now, the tips of his fingers nearly visible, and with one last great tug, she pulls it off. Bruce uses the Hulk-buster suit to grab that arm and hold it down, though Thanos is barely resisting now.

“What do we do with this thing now?” Carol asks.

“Give it to me,” Daisy says. “I have an idea.”

Daisy holds the gauntlet in her hands and calms her mind. She breathes slow and deeply and clears her mind, save for her memories of Jemma – Jemma in the hot tub, Jemma, saved from the alien planet, Jemma saving National City, always Jemma, all around her. She lets her vibrations wash through the gauntlet. It’s a powerful thing, made of an ancient and nigh-incomprehensible material, but to her it’s still just an object made of molecules.

And that, well, she can deal with that easily. With another deep, slow breath, she visualizes the molecules of the gauntlet dissipating.

And then, they do.

“No!” Thanos shouts, consciousness returning to him as adrenaline begins to pump through his veins. 

A shockwave of energy disperses as the Stones separate from the ruined gauntlet, sending everyone flying backwards. The loud whine of tinnitus invades Daisy’s mind as she desperately tries to push herself up. As she looks around the ruined battlefield, it’s clear that everyone is dazed from the blast, though some less than others. Quickly, with hearts racing, everyone begins to regain their wits. There’s a mad scramble for the Stones as those powerful enough to handle them try to retrieve at least one before Thanos can get his hands on any.

Strange retrieves the Time Stone, placing it back in the Eye of Agamotto.

Thor, now back on his feet, grabs the Reality Stone and places it in Stormbreaker, the weapon crackling with a strange, red energy.

Acting before thinking, Kara grabs the Soul Stone and places it in the center of the crest that adorns her armor, though it’s as if the stone moves there on its own accord.

Thanos and Steve both see the Power Stone fall to the ground and they rush towards it. Thanos is faster, though, and he grabs the glowing, purple Stone, placing it in his armor. He clenches his fists and groans as its energy surges through him.

He spots the Space Stone next, and begins to sprint towards it. Daisy sees this, though, and uses her powers to move the stone from out of his grasp and towards herself. They lock eyes just as Daisy grabs the Stone. Blue energy like lightning arcs off of the incredibly powerful object and she can feel her mind and body alike begin to collapse beneath its power. She falls to one knee, her breaths coming in quick gasps, her eyes bloodshot. Though her vision is dimming, she looks down and sees that the hand that’s holding onto the Stone is beginning to crack, like an old statue ravaged by the elements.

She sees shapes moving towards her. Are they her friends? Is it Thanos? Is her mind inventing images to distract her from the agony the Space Stone? She can no longer tell. Someone is shouting at her, and she’s not sure if it’s real.

This must be it, she thinks. This is her death. 

Then, she feels a hand on her shoulder, and the pain is lessened ever so slightly. Using what little strength she has left, she turns her head, inch by inch, to see whose hand it is. She finds Jemma’s face smiling back at hers, the energy of the Space Stone surging through her.

“No,” Daisy chokes. “It’ll kill you too.”

“No, it won’t,” Sam says.

She places her hand on Daisy’s shoulder, wincing slightly as the energy courses through her as well. With her taking on some of the burden, the pain is lessened for them all.

“You’re not alone, Daisy,” Wanda says.

She takes Sam’s hand, and the burden is shared amongst all. With that, Daisy can feel her strength returning, the pounding in her head stopping and the pain surging through her dimming. With these physical responses to the Stone diminished, she can sense something else. It’s almost as if someone is whispering in her ear, but it echoes from the base of her skull all the way through her head.

“You can let go,” Daisy says to them.

“No, Daisy,” Jemma says. “The Stone – it’s too much.”

“No, I can handle it,” Daisy says. “The Stone is speaking to me. I know I can. You have to trust me.”

Wanda, Sam, and Jemma all share a look, and slowly, Jemma removes her hand. The Stone glows brighter and Daisy winces, but otherwise appears fine. Sam and Wanda follow suit, and miraculously, Daisy seems to be able to handle the power of the Space Stone. With deep, laborious breaths, she pushes herself back up to a standing position, her friend’s hands not leaving her.

And so, there they stand, four glittering Infinity Stones facing off against a fifth. The Power Stone seems to have reinvigorated Thanos, and he stands there, fists clenches, ready for battle.

Then, suddenly, their comms crackle to life.

“Oh, hey, Vision is good to go. This British boy, Fitz, is pretty smart!” Shuri says casually, as if Thanos hadn’t just tried to attack them. “Do you want the Mind Stone in or out?”

“Better leave it in,” Steve says, hand to his ear. “It looks like we’re going to need it.”

With that, Vision himself, returned to full health, soars through the air and joins his fellow Stone-adorned heroes.

“Avengers!” Steve calls out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...sorry about the cliffhanger, I couldn't resist
> 
> This was so fucking fun but also basically impossible to write, juggling all of these characters was a pain but very satisfying to do. Also, Barry comes in so clutch here. Shout out to The Flash, what a cool superhero he is. Also, hey, anyone want to make some fanart of Kara holding Stormbreaker? Pretty please???


	10. And When You Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday friends! I'm back with more of this mess!

“Avengers!” Steve calls out.

Daisy looks from left to right, surrounded on all sides by heroes of different shapes and sizes, from different worlds and different times, all united by their duty to protect the people they love the most. She had never imagined she would end up here, not when she was bouncing between foster homes, not when she was living out of her van, not even when she was in SHIELD.

“Assemble,” Steve finishes.

Daisy lifts her hands and hits Thanos with a blast of vibrational energy, enhanced by the Space Stone sitting in her right gauntlet. The amount of power the Stone generates is stunning, her usual waves of vibration crackling with blue energy. This hits Thanos square in the chest and he flies back several yards, landing on his back.

“Holy shit,” Daisy says breathlessly.

Thor leaps up in the air, roaring all the while, and lifts Stormbreaker above his head. Thanos barely manages to roll out of the way before Thor brings the weapon down in a dazzling arc, sparking with lightning and the crackling red energy of the Reality Stone. Thanos moves to strike Thor but Carol intercepts him, hooking his shoulder and tossing him to the ground.

As he pushes himself up, largely impervious to damage thanks to the Power Stone, Kara is there to meet him. Her foot connects with his side and she uses her flying prowess to continue her momentum, transitioning perfectly into a kick to the head. He flies to the side from the powerful impact, where he’s immediately caught by a devastating punch from Carol. Before momentum can take him back the other direction, Kara slams her leg behind his leg, sending him to one knee. Kara shoots up before furiously kicking downward against the back of his head just as Carol launches her knee upward. Carol’s knee connects with a sickening crunch against his chin, sending him stumbling backwards.  

Kara and Carol high-five.

Thanos quickly gets his wits about him, though, and activates the Power Stone, sending out a wave of energy that sends Kara and Carol flying. This barely buys him a second’s rest, though, since Sam suddenly appears in front of him.  

“I don’t need any pretty rocks to tango,” Sam says. “Let’s do this.”

Thanos clenches his fists, both surrounded by a purple aura, courtesy of the Power Stone. He throws a left hook, which Sam dodges with ease. She responds with two lightning-fast jabs to the chest, followed by a brutal uppercut. Thanos stumbles back and Sam presses her advantage, landing a spinning triple-kick that sends him flying.

Astra joins the fight as well, her black sword gleaming in the sun as she fights with movements as elegant as any dancer’s. Thanos, however, is experienced in using the power of the Stone, and with it enhances his durability and strength while also creating projections of glowing, purple energy to block her sword. Sam continues to go on the offensive, though, barely giving him the space to breathe.  

Kara pushes herself to her feet once more, gritting her teeth, a furious expression on her face. She dusts her armor off and clenches her fists as she watches Sam and Astra take Thanos on, waiting for the perfect time to make her presence known. Thor appears by her side, offering Stormbreaker to her.

“Here,” Thor says. “I think you might be better with it than I am.”

“Thank you,” Kara says. “I’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

As she grabs the enhanced axe, she winces momentarily as the energy of the Reality Stone surges through her, but it quickly fades. She is a Kryptonian, after all. This is nothing to her.

With that, she begins to sprint towards Thanos, Stormbreaker held comfortably in one hand. Thanos manages to catch Sam with a blast from the Power Stone and is in the process of wrenching Astra’s sword away from her when Kara swings Stormbreaker at him. It hums as it slices through the air, the Reality Stone imbuing it with impossible powers. Thanos manages to dodge it at the last moment. He continues to attempt to grab Astra’s sword from her hand, but she wrenches both of their wrists in such a way that the sword flies upwards. Thanos reaches upwards, preparing to grab it, but a swirling, blue portal swallows it up instead.

“Mind if I borrow this?”

All of them turn to see Daisy standing there, testing the weight of the Kryptonian sword in one hand. Astra grins at her.

“Go right ahead.”

Daisy charges at Thanos, but at the last moment, activates the Space Stone in conjunction with her powers and blinks out of view. She reappears behind Thanos, slicing at his back and drawing blood. Once he turns around to retaliate, she’s gone once again. She reappears at his side this time, thrusting Astra’s sword out and making contact with his arm. And, yet again, she blinks out of view before he can do anything to her. She continues this process several more times, drawing blood each time.

Eventually, Thanos thinks he’s figured out the pattern to her attacks and reaches out to where he thinks she’ll be. However, Daisy has thought about this, too, and instead thrusts the sword out to where her body would’ve been. When she blinks back into view, the sword is embedded cleanly through Thanos’s hand. He looks down at it, shocked, as blood begins to pour form the wound. He falls to one knee, and Daisy aims the sword directly at his throat.

Thor takes this moment to fly in next to them, his cape fluttering behind him.

“May I?” he asks, holding out his hand, and Kara tosses Stormbreaker back at him.

Thor steps forward, brings Stormbreaker up, and brings it down, slicing reality itself in two. From his perspective, the current reality flutters away, like a cloth sliced in two, revealing a new one beneath it.

Thanos stands up slowly, regarding his new surroundings.

“Titan,” Thanos says. “Before it fell. How did you know?”

“The Stone is showing you this,” Thor says. “This is where you got your start, isn’t it?”

“This is where I learned what I had to do,” Thanos says. “Life grows out of control, choking out whatever planet it comes from. Resources, space, all squandered. Someone must be there to cull the population.”

“You’re wrong,” Thor says. “Killing half of all life will only slow things down for so long, and then people will make babies and soon your big, ‘noble’ act will be meaningless. If you actually cared about people, you would find a way to fix distribution, not just wipe out half of all of them.”

Thanos seems almost amused. “I killed your brother and half your people. I thought you’d be angrier.”

“Oh, I’m plenty angry,” Thor says. “And I do want to slice your head off with this massive axe. But, more than that, I wanted to tell you that you’re wrong, that the entire ideology you’ve centered your life around is wrong. You’ve been chasing a broken and empty lie, and I think that deep down, you know that. You’re no humanitarian. You like the killing. The fighting. The conquering. You relish in it. And yet, you try and convince people that your way is right, because a part of you wants someone to validate your insane worldview.”

“My children support me,” Thanos says.

“Yes, I’m sure the kids you kidnap and torture really make a point to challenge your beliefs,” Thor says. “I want to kill you, yes. But I want you to die knowing that the goal you’ve been chasing is hollow and pointless.”

“I’m not going to die. Not here, and not to you.”

Thanos blasts him with energy from the Power Stone. Thor roars out in pain and falls to both knees, before his body crumbles beneath the overwhelming waves of energy – and vanishes into red mist.

“No!” Thanos shouts.

The vision of Titan, brought about by the Reality Stone, also fades. In its stead are the five heroes, each one brandishing a different Stone; Strange, Thor, Kara, Daisy, and Vision.

“It’s over, Thanos,” Thor says. “We’ve defeated your army. We control the rest of the Stones. You have nothing left.”

“Not nothing,” Thanos says. “Not ever.”

He activates the Power Stone, becoming surrounded by its purple aura, and he charges at the five heroes. Thor raises Stormbreaker and shoots a beam of energy from the Reality Stone. It hits Thanos true, slowing down his forward progress.

The rest of them do the same. Strange opens the eye and lets the power of the Time Stone flow forth. Vision leans forward, a beam emitting from the Mind Stone in his head. Kara stands in her power pose, the Soul Stone in her chest adding to the multicolored beams that are striking Thanos. He’s stalled in place now, amping up the Power Stone to dangerous levels just to avoid being overwhelmed.

Daisy steps up next, though, and lifts the gauntleted hand that carries the Space Stone, and adds to the assault upon Thanos. A brilliant, blue beam fires from the Stone and strikes Thanos square in the chest. The mad titan finally falls to both knees, the combined powers of the other Stones finally too much for him. He’s awash in brilliant, multicolored light, and underneath that flow of universal power, his body slowly begins to disintegrate.

After a few moments, Thanos turns into dust and fades away.

The Power Stone drops down onto the ground, still glowing purple.

The five heroes all slump, the effort from using the Stones like that overwhelming. Their compatriots gather around them, holding them upright. Daisy can feel Jemma’s arms wrap around her from behind, capturing her in a comforting embrace.

“I’ve got you, Daisy. I’ve always got you.”

Thor has his arm draped around Brunnhilde’s shoulders, the only thing keeping him upright.

“Is that it?” Brunnhilde asks. “Is it over?”

Thor regards her for a moment, then looks down at the Power Stone.

“No, it’s not,” Thor says. “We must destroy the Stones.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tony asks. “Those things can apparently end half of life in the universe, or, if you’re feeling particularly ornery, all life in the universe. Is destroying them even safe?”

“We have to use the Stones to destroy themselves,” Thor says. “It’s the only way. Anything else wouldn’t be safe.”  

“What do you think, MD?” Tony says, spinning on his heel and facing Strange. “Aren’t you sworn to protect the Time Stone? Are you okay with this?”

“Yes, it is my duty to look after the Stone,” Strange says. “A part of any duty is finding its end.”

“I’m just…” Tony says, gesticulating to fill the empty spaces. “Don’t these things represent fundamental forces of the universe? And we want to just blow them up now?”

“They were forged at the beginning of the universe, and contain great power,” Strange says. “They aren’t the universe. It will keep spinning on without them.”

“We don’t have these things, and our universe happens to be just fine,” Kara says, hands on her hips.

Tony sighs.

“So, we all think we should destroy them?” he asks.

“I’m certain that Thanos is neither the first nor last to seek the Stones for evil purposes,” Astra says. “There will be more. Eventually, there will someone will come for them who is even more powerful and more prepared than he was. Do you really wish to take that chance and leave them intact?”

“We must destroy them, Stark,” Thor says. “It’s the only way.”

“Fine,” Tony says. “If this backfires, let the record show that I at least tried to argue against it.”

“Tony, it’s fine,” Steve says, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “It’s over. We can let them go.”

Tony hangs his head but says nothing further.

The five heroes, still brandishing their Stones, gather in a circle. The Power Stone, which still glows faintly purple, lies in the dirt just beside them.

“Who wants the spare?” Strange says, a hint of humor to his voice.

“I can do it,” Brunnhilde says. “If Thor can take one and just jam it into his big, dumb axe, I can certainly handle it.”

Thor looks both amused and offended by that, but says nothing. Brunnhilde kneels by the Power Stone, which seems to glow more brightly in her presence. She reaches out tentatively, her fingers not wanting to make the final push to actually touch the powerful artifact.  

“You can do it, Brunnhilde,” Thor says.

She nods and shoots her hand out, her fingertips scrabbling against the dirt before closing around the Stone. She winces in pain as its power surges through her, sweat forming on her temples as purple light seems to flow up her veins. Before it consumes her, she slams the Stone into the blade of her spear, which seems to accept it without problem. She drops the spear onto the ground reflexively, before picking it up again. Once again the energy of the Stone seems to flow through her, though it’s subdued this time. Manageable.

“What are you all looking at?” she asks as she stands up.

Thor smiles and claps her on the back.

“Good show,” he says. “Now, shall we?”

“Quick question,” Daisy says, raising her gauntleted hand, the one that houses the Space Stone. “How does this work? I know they had the Tesseract forever, but SHIELD didn’t exactly have a crash course in Infinity Stone disposal.”

“It’s simple,” Thor says. “At once, we must imagine the Stones fading into nonexistence. Now this is important, because if we simply imagine them exploding or destroying themselves, they could release all their energy at once, which would be, y’know, bad for us. No, we must imagine the Stones simply no long existing before we activate them.”

“Right,” Daisy says. “Sounds easy enough. I’ve done weirder things.”

“Are we ready?” Thor asks, looking around the circle of heroes.

Each one of them nods – Strange to Vision to Brunnhilde to Daisy to Kara. Without thinking, Kara reaches out and grabs Daisy’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Thor picks up on this and smiles.

“An excellent idea,” Thor says. “Let us all hold hands to better channel and coordinate the combined power of the Stones.”

Strange looks like he’s about to protest when Brunnhilde roughly grabs his hands and silences him with a look. He simply shrugs and continues the chain, grabbing hands with Vision to his side. Soon, all of their hands are linked.

“Let us begin,” Thor says. “Imagine the Stones not existing, and when I reach zero, activate them.”

Thor begins the countdown. Daisy can feel her heart thudding against her ribcage, each beat coming quicker than the last. She tries to slow her breathing in order to focus at the task at hand, but it’s becoming more and more difficult with each number that Thor calls out. Despite his confidence in them, this still seems like a massive risk. After all, they’re messing with artifacts taken from the beginning of the universe, and now they’re trying to will them into nonexistence or what have you. Still, Daisy knows that now is not the time for doubts. Now they must act, and…

“Zero,” Thor calls out.

Daisy squeezes her eyes shut and activates her Stone.  

* * *

The Infinity Stones all burst at once, resulting in a shockwave of energy that sends everyone flying. Daisy tries to get herself up on her elbows before collapsing again, her chin making contact with the dirt below. She frowns and pushes herself onto her back, staring up at the calming blue of the Wakandan sky. A few clouds float by and she imagines them as Helicarriers and Quinjets.

“Hey, guys,” Daisy calls out. “We’re going to have a big party after this, right? I want to celebrate.”

“Oh, please,” Kara says. “I’ve been so stressed out. I really need to let loose.”

“Lena can probably throw another big party, right?” Daisy asks. “She’s super rich.”

“If Lena doesn’t throw a party, I will,” Sam says. “I was CFO at L-Corp for a handful of months and I quadrupled my net worth. I can throw a crazy party.”

“Good,” Daisy says. “We need a party. A party with good food. I’m starving right now – is anyone else super hungry?”

Everyone voices their assent.

“I’m so hungry,” Jemma says. “I could really go for a massive burger right now. Or some sort of disgusting American food.”

“I don’t know we have so many rich friends now,” Daisy says. “Give me a nice steak. Or some Peking duck.”

“You guys are killing me over here,” Kara whines.

“We’ll get you food, little one,” Astra says, “Worry not.”

* * *

“Well, this is it,” Daisy says. “No use delaying the inevitable.”

She’s standing next to Jemma, their hands clasped, just outside of the beam, awash in its typical, overpowering blue light. The three Kryptonians are there as well, ready to get home, along with Alex, Vasquez, and the hand-picked DEO agents who came along. Given her past luck, Daisy figures they’re going to walk directly into a veritable army of black-suited agents and police in body armor and get immediately court-marshalled, if not tried and hanged right in the street.

“I can’t really imagine being in any more trouble than I currently am, so let’s just do this,” Sam says. “Let’s just rip off that band-aid.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Jemma says. “You may be pleasantly surprised at the reception we get.”

Sam just shakes her head and stares at the beam, while Daisy catches the pleased expression on Jemma’s face. She wouldn’t look like that if she didn’t have something huge up her sleeve, so Daisy allows herself to feel hopeful. If anyone can solve the mess they’re in, it’s Jemma.

Daisy steps through the beam first. Even within the relative sanctuary of the beam facility, she can hear the muffled cacophony of overlapping voices coming from outside. There are distorted bursts of noise that rise above the rest, like someone is speaking through a megaphone. Jemma comes through the beam next and also hears the chaos outside. They exchange a glance, unsure of what’s happening.

The rest of them emerge through the beam, one-by-one, and they slowly make their way outside. The gleam of the bright, National City sun forces Daisy to momentarily cover her eyes and squint as they’re greeted by another burst of noise, of voices rising in the air to greet them. Once Daisy lowers her gauntleted hand and her eyes adjust, she sees just what’s happening. A massive crowd of people have gathered around the entrance to the beam facility, the blockade apparently completely forgiven. Someone screams her name and it ripples through the crowd, picking up in intensity as it goes along. Kara gets the biggest cheers, of course, but Sam receives a particularly explosive reaction, which draws a smile out of her. A small contingent of police officers is keeping the crowd from mobbing them.

Lucy Lane, of all people, is waiting there for them, an amused expression on her face.

“What the hell is going on?” Daisy asks.

“You guys are big heroes again,” Lucy says. “Jemma’s always thinking a hundred steps ahead.”

Daisy looks back at Jemma, who just grins and shrugs. Already a giddy, ebullient feeling rises up in Daisy’s chest. Maybe they can have it all, just this once, to save the world without breaking another part of it in the process. Daisy knows Jemma and trusts her completely. She must’ve done something good.

“Here, look at this,” Lucy says.

She pulls out her phone and shows her a video stream titled “SUPERGIRL AND FRIENDS BEAT UP A GENOCIDAL MANIAC.” Daisy snorts in laughter. Lucy plays a quick clip from the recorded stream, a surprisingly stable and high-resolution shot of Kara landing punch after punch on Thanos.

“What the – how did you even do this?” Daisy asks.

“Fitz and I had some drones follow the fight,” Jemma says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “A lot of them were destroyed, but we have a lot of drones. We figured we could use it to shape public opinion on both sides, show everyone working together to take down a common existential threat.”

“And you streamed this?” Daisy asks, still incredulous. “Through the beam?”

“Yeah, we knew that we were capable of sending huge packets of data continuously through the beam, we just hadn’t tested it before,” Jemma says.

“That and it’s sanctioned to all hell,” Alex says.

“Well, that, but I figured we were in enough trouble that adding a little more fuel to the fire wouldn’t really hurt,” Jemma says. “I think I made the right gamble.”

Daisy chuckles in disbelief, Jemma’s boldness and sheer audacity always finding ways to impress her. It just makes Daisy like her even more than she already does.

“You’re crazy,” Daisy says. “I love you.”

“I know,” Jemma says, smiling brightly back at her.

* * *

It only follows that next, of course, they’re meeting with President Marsden, not even getting a chance to change out of their dirty, scuffed, and bloodied body armor. They meet her in a nearby hotel’s conference room that’s absolutely crawling with secret service, and they feel even more out of place between all of the black, pressed suits and the fineries of the hotel.

“So,” Marsden says, clasping her hands together. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We do,” Lena says. “I think we need to rethink our strategy with Universe Nordica.”

It’s such an incredible understatement that Daisy starts laughing, unbidden, and once she does the rest of the group is quick to follow. Even Marsden joins in as well.

“I think we all needed that,” Marsden says as she tries to settle the group again. “Look, once everything gets settled in Nordica, SHIELD and a couple other of the alphabet departments are going to take a long, hard look at Ross and his associates. It shouldn’t take long, since SHIELD was able to get literally everything off of their private servers.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Daisy says, arms folded across her chest. “I’m ready to never hear about that asshole ever again.”

If Marsden is bothered by her language, she doesn’t let it show.

“We’re sticking with the current timeline for the Peace Talks, which should give them about a month to finish their investigations,” Marsden says. “We’re forcing it as a deadline since we want them to actually work on this. And, if they have trouble choosing proper representatives for the Talks, that’s on them.”

“It’s about time we play some hardball,” Sam says.

“Agreed,” Alex says. “I have nothing against our sister universe, but they could do a little better in choosing their leaders.”

“Indeed,” Marsden says. “Oh, and there’s one more proposal I have.”

“What do you have in mind?” Lena asks.

“I want all of you there at the Talks,” Marsden says. “In fact, I’m opening the invitation to all heroes who want to attend. As it turns out, you and the researchers have the most experience in crossing over between worlds and working together. I want your experience on display as we figure out how to work things out.”

“We’d be happy to attend,” Daisy says, before anyone else can respond. “I figure we all have plenty to say.”

“Prepare your statements, everyone,” Marsden says. “The Talks will be upon us soon. But first, Nordica has to formally arrest Secretary Ross.”

* * *

“This is his house? Big man in a big house, is that what he’s going for?” Hunter asks.

“I don’t know why we bring you to these things,” Bobbi says.

They are, along with the rest of the usual SHIELD crew, are positioned outside of Ross’s house – a massive, colonial-style near-mansion, complete with old, weathered brick, imposing, white pillars, and vines artfully creeping up the walls. It’s three in the morning, well before dawn, and all of their sensors indicate that Ross is sleeping soundly in his bedroom. They’re accompanied by a handful of strike teams from the CIA and FBI, as well as more backup from local SWAT teams. They don’t expect much resistance, but since they know that Ross has access to universe-hopping suits, they want to be ready for anything.

“Let’s keep chatter to a minimum,” Coulson says. “We have our other, other backup too, right?”

“We do,” May says. “Say the word and they’ll be here in a second.”

Coulson quickly glances skyward. Dark clouds hover above, faintly illuminated by the waning moon.

“Good,” Coulson says. “Is everyone alive and kicking? Had enough coffee?”

Their comms briefly come alive as the various teams check in.

“Great,” Coulson says. “Let’s move. Breakfast is on SHIELD if we pull this off.”  

They make their way up to the front door, their ICERs at the ready. Just as Coulson is about to knock on the door, several loud pops sound all around them.

“Now would be great, guys,” Coulson says into his comms device.

Slicing through the air in nearly completely silence, Sam and Kara both descend from above the clouds. Kara has swapped out her normal blue-and-red suit for Lena’s new sleek, all-black “stealth suit,” completely with a half-mask that covers the lower part of her face (a tribute to Daisy’s suit). Moving faster than the eye can track, they begin to move from assailant to assailant, deactivating their universe-hopping suits. A few of them catch on to what’s happening, though, and begin to activate their suits.

They don’t get far, though.

Daisy suddenly appears between them all and holds out her hands, using her powers to keep them trapped in this universe. They struggle, but they can’t do anything against someone who can control the vibrations of their very atoms. Kara and Sam quickly dismantle their suits, and Daisy drops her hands.

Just as everyone is about to begin celebrating, Sam frowns.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” Kara asks.

“Ross is gone,” Sam says. “I just scanned the house with my X-Ray vision. He must have one of those suits, too.”  

Daisy grins.

“Don’t worry about that. I thought he would try something like this.”

* * *

Ross had been alerted by his men that forces were amassing outside of his house, and even if they weren’t, his extensive array of sensors would’ve done the same. So, while they were distracted by his universe-hopping forces outside, he put on one of those same suits and activated it.

He reappears inside some sort of high-tech prison about the size of shipping container. The interior is entirely white, a hexagonal pattern covering every surface. Narrow windows allow him to peer outside and it looks like he’s out on the beach somewhere, strangely enough, and certainly not one that he recognizes.

“Surprised?”

Ross whirls around to see a man and a woman standing just outside whatever strange cell he’s in.

“Who the hell are you two?” Ross demands.

“Oh, I’m Fitz, this is Jemma,” he says. “I thought you might recognize me, given that I’m the lead Nordica researcher on the beam, but hey. I know you’re not exactly a man of science.”

“Where am I?” Ross asks. “You may have trapped me in here now, but I promise you that –”

“Save your threats,” Jemma says, sounding disappointed. “Your time is up. An airtight case has been built against you. Your allies have abandoned you. You even attacked the agents coming to arrest you – that’s obviously not going to play well in court. It’s all over.”

“How did you do it?” Ross asks.

“We knew you had the tech to draw Daisy to a specific area when she used her powers to hop between universes,” Fitz says. “It was easy to reverse-engineer it and make a better version of our own.”

Fitz walks up to the makeshift prison cell and slaps it a couple of times.

“This thing can handle individuals with Hulk-level strength,” Fitz says. “A bit more than you can muster I’d say. You’ll be nice and comfy in here until SHIELD takes you away.”

* * *

It’s all over the headlines in Nordica the very next day.

News channels run it for 24 hours straight, and after realizing that their viewership has tripled in that time, run it for the entire week. Legal experts, politicians, law enforcement agents, celebrity guests, and more are brought on to discuss Ross’s actions. Street interviews are conducted. A very gracious interview offer is even extended to Coulson himself, who respectfully declines.

The reaction on the streets is immediate and stunning in scope. Demonstrations begin spontaneously as soon as the news is circulated, and organizers are quick to harness that energy and funnel it into hundreds of massive protests. They start national, in the US, and quickly turn global, as the issue over the beams affects everyone. Ross is the focus of most of their ire, but his collaborators, equally global, are quickly dragged out into the sun. Reporters eventually uncover everything about them – voting records, bank accounts, former mistresses, troubling former university clubs – everything. When someone from the SHIELD team finally asks Daisy if she’s had any hand in this, she just smiles and changes the subject.

The news is nearly as explosive in Kryptonia. James Olsen lands the first interview with Supergirl, of course, and she can neither confirm nor deny that she had a part in Ross’s arrest and capture. CatCo’s website has a constantly-updating website dedicated specifically to this scandal and its links to the upcoming Peace Talks. People are furious. A contingent quickly rises up that believes that they shouldn’t deal with the distrustful Universe Nordica any longer, but they’re quickly reminded that shutting down the beam is exactly what Ross would’ve wanted. Some clever coordination between Lena, James, Kara, and Sam ensures they can steadily roll out a series of soundbites to sway public opinion back to integrating the two universes. The organizers of the first Solidarity March plan another, and then several more, and suddenly those go worldwide, too.

It turns out that, as Sam had thought, their decision to help Nordica defeat Thanos has captured people’s imaginations. All of these heroes coming together, these titans and icons in the eyes of the public – it’s an inspirational image that can’t be brought down, no matter how hard some people try. Jemma and Fitz’s drones perfectly captured the moment when Thor tossed Stormbreaker to Kara, and that alone has spurred on people desires for solidarity between the two universes almost more than anything else.  

And then, just like that, it’s the day of the Peace Talks.

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end! We just have some super serious political talks coming up (it'll be more fun than it sounds, I promise) and, of course, Lena's insane party. Also, writing about Thanos getting beat up by a bunch of angry Kryptonians was so fun. The real reason for this crossover ofc


	11. "Everything Will Change"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, y'all mind if I... inject some vague politics??

“How do I look?”

Jemma places a kiss on Daisy’s cheek.

“You know I’m going to say you look good.”

“But, do I look ‘presenting arguments in front of the President and a bunch of politicians’ good?”

Jemma just shakes her head and smiles, letting her gaze roam Daisy’s figure. She’s dressed in a precisely-fitted navy suit, complete with a blue tie and monk-strap leather shoes. It’s more conservative than what she normally wears, but since she really will be speaking in front of the most impressive assembly of politicians across the two universes that has ever been assembled, it seems appropriate.

“Tell her she looks great!” Lena’s voice drifts in from the living room.

“You can’t even see me!” Daisy shouts back.

“I know what you look like in a suit, Daisy. And it’s from my personal tailor.”

“Whatever, rich girl!”

Jemma laughs and smooths the lapels of Daisy’s jacket.

“You look incredible, honestly,” she says. “So good that I want to rip it all off right now.”

Daisy smiles at her.

“I want to do the same to that dress of yours,” she says, her arms encircling Jemma’s waist. “Should we just skip the Peace Talks?”

“That seems irresponsible. Even for us.”

Daisy laughs.

“That’s fine, then. We’ll have all the time in the world once it’s done.”

“Oh, we certainly will.”

They kiss, and keep kissing just up until they reach the point where they know they won’t want to stop, not for the Peace Talks, not for anything in the world.

* * *

Just outside, Lena is putting the finishing touches on Kara’s deep navy suit.

“I had this made just last night,” Lena says. “A rush job at the L-Corp 3D printers.”

She pulls a small, velvet box out of her pocket and slowly opens it, revealing a perfectly-crafted, golden pin in the shape of the House of El’s crest. Kara draws in her breath sharply, marveling at the design.

“May I?” Lena asks.

Kara nods. Lena takes a step closer and runs her fingers beneath the lapel of Kara’s jacket. Sam sees what’s happening and wordlessly excuses herself, sneaking out onto the deck and admiring the sunlight glittering off all of the skyscrapers downtown. Kara can feel the warmth of Lena’s fingers drift through the layers of her suit, and she swallows audibly as Lena pushes the spike of the pin through her lapel and caps it off.

“I love you,” Kara whispers, reverently.

“I know,” Lena says, smiling. “I love you too.”

* * *

They stop themselves from tearing off their nice clothes, but Daisy doesn’t want to leave the sanctuary of their bedroom, the most precious place in the world to her. She leans against the double doors, deep in thought.

“I’m going to have to reveal who I am,” Daisy finally says. “For good, this time.”

“I know,” Jemma says. “It’ll be okay. Though I’m sure that Lena will miss you working for her.”

Daisy smiles, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“She’ll get over it,” Daisy says. “Besides, L-Corp’s firewall is impenetrable now. I expect a hefty retirement package.”

Jemma laughs, her carbon fiber hand resting comfortably on Daisy’s upper arm.

“I’m sure she’ll be very generous,” Jemma says. “Maybe I’ll even get a raise, too.”

“And a fancy new hand, too,” Daisy says.

She smiles and loosely intertwines her fingers with Jemma’s synthetic ones. The prosthetic has never even come close to bothering her, in fact, it seems appropriate, in a way. A woman of science with a robotic hand. What could be more poetic?

“We should head out,” Jemma says. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting for too long.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Daisy says.

Finally, they head out into the living room, where Kara, Lena, and Sam are waiting for them. Kara and Lena are both wearing suits, while Sam is wearing a sleek, charcoal dress, one likely revived from her days as L-Corp’s CFO. There’s some concern that Kara and Sam will be recognized as themselves, since they’re appearing officially as Supergirl and Blackbird, just outside of their normal, recognizable suits. But, they figure that people will realize that even Kryptonians can change into dress clothes, and Kara looks so regal and intimidating in her suit that they’re fairly certain no one will mistake her for Kara Danvers, reporter.

They’re spread out across the living room – Kara is leaning against the arm of a couch, her feet set firmly on the ground, Lena is sitting imperially in one of the armchairs, while Sam stands, her arms folded across her chest – all looking like some sort of tableau dedicated to powerful women.

“Wow, I’ve never felt such furious energy before,” Daisy says. “Are we ready to eat some politicians alive?”

“Oh, I’m always ready for that,” Lena says, grinning wolfishly.

* * *

The Peace Talks are somehow even more chaotic than they had all assumed it would be. Even though they arrive in one of Lena’s cars, with a full NCPD escort, they still manage to get hounded by both protestors and counter-protestors, each side either praising them to high heavens or damning them to hell. Teams of reporters are milling about, trying to get a quick soundbite from anyone they can point their camera lens at. James catches Kara’s eyes, who winks and waves at him. Daisy, unable to resist, turns and gives them all a cheery wave before disappearing into the recently rebuilt National City Convention Center. Lena stops for a moment to admire the L-Corp logo emblazoned just below the main signage for the building.

Where all is chaos outside, it would be nearly funereal inside if not for the tension that seems to be constantly buzzing in the background. There’s a seemingly endless array of news crews inside, each a respectable distance apart; seemingly more senior reporters than those outside are fixing the lines of their faces into serious expressions as the cameras roll on. A few politicians are still out in the hallways and empty spaces, surrounded by armies of aides and fluttering paper, practicing their statements just before they have to be delivered.

Everyone parts before them as they walk towards the main conference room. Even Kara – as Supergirl, Kara Zor-El – seems to be inspiring some fear in certain newscaster and politicians. It’s only now, seeing her carry herself as Supergirl outside of her normal red-and-blues, that Daisy realizes just how differently Kara has to be to embody that persona. She seems taller, her back straighter, certainly, and even the lines of her face seem to be harsher. When she’s not smiling or laughing goofily at something, there’s a certain nobility to her features, and a definite sadness. A surge of affection over comes Daisy, and she reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.

“You’re going to do great,” Daisy says.

“Thanks,” Kara says, smiling. “You will, too.”

In many ways, Daisy knows, they are the same. They often feel caught between two worlds, have troubled relationships with their birth parents, have found themselves without a home and without a safety net at points, and sometimes see their powers as much of a curse as they are a blessing. They feel out of place more often than not, knowing that they don’t quite fit in anywhere.  

Which is why, of course, they’re perfectly suited for the Peace Talks. Of bringing together two disparate universes.

They come up to the double doors that lead to the cavernous conference room where the main talks will be held. This is it. This is where they can make their mark on history. They all seem to be feeling the pressure of this moment, and Jemma reaches out and grabs Daisy’s hands. They exchange a quick smile before the veritable army of security guards quickly checks them over. Once satisfied, they open up the doors for them, and they walk in, all eyes on them.

And here it begins.

* * *

They finally break for lunch a good two hours after they were scheduled to, and the look of relief on everyone’s faces is almost comical. It feels at once as if they’ve discussed everything they possibly can while barely scratching the surface. How will citizenship work? Who will be allowed to move between universes? What documentation does a person need to travel between universes? How will criminals be handled? Can the heroes collaborate freely as they’ve done with Thanos’s invasion? What kind of security needs to be at each beam site? How will they approve the movement of militaries? Of companies? And this is just day one.

“I’m starving,” Daisy announces as soon as they walk out through those double doors.

“Me too!” Kara says. “I could eat a pizza. Or two pizzas! Is there a pizza place in here?”

“Yeah, just that chain you hate so much,” Alex snorts.

“Alex! You’re here too!” Kara exclaims.

Alex rolls her eyes, before smiling fondly and pointlessly elbowing Kara in the ribs.

“Yeah, I told you I’d be here as security, weirdo.”

“Wait, you’re our security?” Daisy asks. “You and the DEO? We’re doomed.”

“Majorly rude,” Alex says.

“Hey, who solved the Last Patriots case?” Daisy asks. “Coulson and the team. Agents of SHIELD all the way.”

She and Jemma high-five without even looking, and Alex glares furiously at them.

“Hey, how about we get some food before we all start fighting?” Sam asks, swooping in between them all. “That’s a mean stare you have there, lover mine.”

Alex immediately softens just upon looking at her, and it’s enough for Sam to lean in for a kiss – only to muss up Alex’s hair instead.

“What, is it dogpile on Alex day or what?” she asks.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Sam says, grinning. “Besides, I kind of like the Agents of SHIELD, too.”

“Traitor” Alex grumbles.

Alex is quickly all-smiles again as they walk to the food court in the lower levels of the convention center. Everyone is a little loopy after so much politicking, and a loopy Daisy means that she’s twice as quick to descend into terrible jokes and jabs.

Kara doesn’t go for two pizzas, but she does order an alarming number of gyros, and carries her aluminum-wrapped bundles of joy in her arms back to the table where Daisy and Jemma are sitting.

“Please tell me one of those is for Lena,” Jemma says.

“Nope! All for me,” Kara says. “She’s eating a salad, naturally. And talking shop with the boys.”

She says that fondly as she nods towards where Lena is chatting animatedly with Tony and Bruce, using her fork to accentuate her points.

“Not going to join them?” Jemma asks.

“Nah, I’ll let them have their fun,” Kara says. “I don’t have the heart to tell them how wrong they are.”

They can’t help but laugh. It can be easy to forget sometimes, since she’s so talented in so many areas, but Kara’s Kryptonian background does mean she knows more about science than basically everyone.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re smarter than the boys are anyway, Jemma,” Kara says. “We can talk science.”

“Well, I should hope I am,” Jemma says. “If Bruce were really as smart as everyone says, he wouldn’t have spent so much time pursuing PhDs. I mean, 7 PhDs, honestly. What a waste of time.”

“Yeah, for sure, PhDs and degrees are totally things I know about,” Daisy says.

“Oh, come on, like you’re not the best programmer L-Corp has ever had,” Kara says, between bites of gyro. “Lena would come home gushing about the work you would do.”

“This is doing wonders for my ego,” Daisy says, grinning. “Please, keep it coming.”

Just as Kara is about to tease her back, they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat. They all turn to see that Thor himself is hovering by their table, double-fisting what appear to be…

“Sushirritos?” Daisy asks.

“Indeed! Sushi-burritos!” Thor says, taking a hearty bite out of one of them. “They’re really good. You want any?”

“I’m alright, Thor, thanks,” Daisy says.

“Do you mind if I…” he lets his voice trail off, gesturing towards the empty seat.

“Oh, please,” Kara says, shifting her quickly dwindling pile of gyros.

“Thank you,” Thor says. “Say, Kara, have you met Brunnhilde?”

Daisy and Jemma exchange a knowing glance as Thor nods towards where is Brunnhilde is sitting, making polite small talk with Natasha.

“Briefly, yeah,” Kara says. “She seems cool.”

“Great, great,” Thor says. “And are you, ah, are you, you know, with a partner?”

Kara crinkles her brow at that.

“Like, superhero-sidekick-wise, or…” Kara says, letting her question trail off.

Thor clears his throat and leans forward, somewhat conspiratorially. “No, more in the realm of romance.”

“Oh. Oh,” Kara says, drawing out the vowel.

Thor takes this the wrong way, and his eyes widen and he puts his hands up in a show of innocence. “I’m very sorry. I should not have assumed that you have interest in women in that way. My mistake.”

Daisy can’t take it anymore and bursts out laughing. She tries to hide it as a cough at first, her mouth hidden behind a fistful of napkins, but it doesn’t work.

“I’m so sorry,” Daisy says, still laughing. “I’ll let Kara explain. Just give me a sec.”

She walks off, trying to calm herself down, as Jemma just shakes her head and looks at her fondly. Kara looks mortified, though it’s clear she’s trying her very hardest to avoid making that too obvious.

“I am interested in women that way, I’m just – I’m with someone. Lena. Lena, honey?” Kara waves and catches her attention, who, seeming to perfectly read the situation, smiles and blows a kiss back. Kara’s cheeks turn pink.

“Well, I’m very sorry,” Thor says. “Lena seems lovely. Poor Brunnhilde, though she’ll never admit it, is slightly heartbroken about Carol. She too has someone she loves, which Brunnhilde didn’t realize until after propositioning her.”

“Oh, poor thing,” Kara says.

“I know,” Thor says, before turning to Jemma. “Say, are you…”

“No, Thor,” she says simply.

* * *

Finally, it’s time for Daisy to speak. Her heart pounds in her ears and there’s a slight tremble to her hands; she can’t remember the last time she was so nervous. Perhaps years ago, when she first learned of her Inhuman genetics and resulting powers, did she feel like that, but even that felt different. Back then, all she was worried about was how she’d adapt to all those changes, or if she even could. It was all about herself. But now, here, there’s a chance to bring two worlds together. Two universes together. This is bigger than her. Bigger than any single person.  

And here she is, about to deliver a speech that she hopes will make even the slightest impact.

She feels someone’s hand on her own, settling her tremors and suffusing her with calming warmth. She turns to see Jemma’s gaze upon her, a smile on her face. As she feels her heartbeat steadying, she turns to her other side to see Lena subtly incline her head while Kara mouths _El Mayarah_ at her. Daisy can’t help but grin. Stronger Together. Even Wanda, from across the room, catches her eye and flashes her a quick smile and a thumbs-up.

“Ms. Johnson, you have the floor,” President Marsden reiterates.

“Yes, thank you, ma’am,” Daisy says.

Daisy smooths out the front of her suit jacket as she steps up to the podium. In that moment, she realizes just how many eyes are upon her; ambassadors, politicians, heads of state, and more are waiting for on her. And, for once, nobody expects her to punch her way out of this. No. This is something more.

“Ladies, gentleman,” Daisy starts, before a smile quirks her lips. “And our non-binary friends, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Daisy Johnson, though some of you may know me better as Quake. Some of you may even know me as Skye.”

She lets her gaze fall upon Coulson, who smiles at her and winks. Daisy has to prevent a goofy grin from making its way across her face.

“I’ve had many identities throughout my life. Back when I was bouncing around the foster care system, I often wondered just who I was and just where I belonged. And, as I’ve gotten older, that question has only become more difficult. I feel myself being pulled between many different worlds. I’m half Chinese, yet I was raised in America. I’m Inhuman, with powers that sometimes I can’t even believe that I have. I’m queer – bisexual, to be specific. I’m a former Agent of SHIELD. I’ve worked for L-Corp. I’m a superhero, or a vigilante, if you prefer, or a menace. Throughout my life, I’ve felt burdened by all of this. Many times I’ve felt as if my life would be so much easier if I could just ignore everything and be ‘normal.’”

She takes a deep breath, both to let her words settle into the crowd and so that she can catch her breath. She feels as if she’s just run a marathon, her throat dry and her heart pounding.

“But there’s no such thing as that, is there? Our norms, our perceptions of what’s typical and expected and acceptable change all of the time. The mere fact that I can exist and thrive in our society is because those who are different, like me, have fought and bled to ensure that the new normal could accept them as well. And that’s why I’m here today.”

Daisy pauses again, feeling the momentum building. She’s practiced this speech a thousand times in front of Jemma, had it looked over by Kara, gotten speaking tips from Lena, and even ran it past Coulson just to get his feedback. Know, right in the middle of it, she begins to feel good about it. She can only hope that it has the impact that she wants it to on everyone listening.

“We’re here today to discuss how two worlds can work together. Well, I am of two worlds. I’m of many different worlds. I’m from Universe Nordica, where I worked with SHIELD for years, but just a week ago I was working as a cybersecurity specialist at L-Corp. I’ve helped stop the takeover of Earth on one side by an ancient Inhuman while I’ve helped stop the Daxamite invasion on the other. I now have friends, allies, and confidants on both sides. I’ve seen what can happen, first-hand, when we all decide to work together. When we embrace our differences.”

Daisy clears her throat once more, her nerves making her fingertips tremble.

“If I can make it work, a former homeless, anti-establishment hacker who’s been accused of everything from vigilantism to treason, then I’m sure you can all make it work. And, in the words of one of my favorite heroes, _El Mayarah_. We are stronger together. Thank you.”

Daisy smooths her suit once more and goes to sit down. Jemma is there, smiling at her in that way she only smiles for Jemma, and quickly squeezes her arm. There’s nothing that Daisy wants more than to lean down and kiss her, but given their current surroundings, that may not be the best idea. Kara and Lena both whisper their congratulations to her.

“Do you think that was enough?” Daisy whispers.

“This is being live-streamed, Daisy,” Jemma says. “If it didn’t reach the politicians, just imagine how many people that spoke. Imagine who that inspired.”

Daisy can’t help but smile back at her.

“Thanks, Jemma,” Daisy says. “I think that’s what I needed to hear.”

* * *

They break for the evening, knowing that they’ll have to be back tomorrow, and the entire rest of the week. Nobody ever said that bringing together two disparate universes would be easy.

What has turned into the usual gang – Daisy and Jemma, Kara and Lena, and Alex and Sam – make their way to a local alien pub, where they hope to lounge around, drink, eat, and no longer think about the world-changing event they’re all a part of. The pub they decide on is charming and retro-futuristic, drawing inspiration from real alien architecture (Roltikkon architecture, according to Kara) and from 50s Earth sci-fi. The bartender and the regulars know them well enough to respect their privacy, though they’re not above challenging them to a round darts or Daxamite dice (a game that Kara still refuses to play).

They make their way to their usual booth in the back and hunker down with pitchers of beer and a disgusting array of pub food, both alien and human, and slowly begin to unwind after the stresses of the day.

“So, you’ve all heard how Thor hit on Kara on behalf of Brunnhilde, right?” Daisy asks.

Kara groans and slumps in her seat.

“You already told everyone this story,” she grumbles. “Now I just want to hook her up with someone. I feel bad!”

“Fine, SG,” Daisy says, mussing up her hair. “Do we know any single ladies? She’s into blondes, right?”

Kara rolls her eyes and busies herself with the piles of food in front of them.

“Maybe we could hook her up with Bobbi,” Jemma says. “That would make her happy and stop her from spending so much time with Hunter. Everyone wins.”

“Except for Hunter,” Daisy says. “And I feel so bad about that.”

Jemma snorts and Daisy bumps shoulders with her.

“Who is Bobbi and why are we having her get together with an Asgardian?” Lena asks.

“She’s our hot, tall, blonde friend,” Jemma says. “She’s still getting over her divorce…”

“Hunter,” Daisy says beneath her breath, shaking her head.

“…and she’s hot,” Jemma says. “Have I mentioned that yet?”

“Maybe a couple of times,” Alex says. “How attractive can she be?”

Daisy is just about to pull out her phone and bring up a picture when Sam nudges her shoulder.

“I think you have an admirer,” Sam says, nodding towards the bar, where a young woman is glancing over at their booth.

“What do we think?” Daisy asks, keeping her voice low. “Do we think she has a crush on one of us, or that she wants to crush us in a game of pool?”

“Talk to her,” Jemma says, glancing up from her phone. “I think we might have an admirer of a different sort.”

Daisy regards her curiously for a moment before locking eyes with the woman and nodding her head towards their booth, inviting her over. The woman seems shocked at first, before slowly getting off her barstool and nervously making her way over.

“So, what’ll it be,” Daisy says. “I’m bad at pool but I can throw a mean dart.”

The woman seems flummoxed by this and takes a few moments to find her voice.

“Oh, um, sorry, I actually don’t want to challenge you at anything,” she says. “I actually came over here to congratulate you?”

“Congratulate me?” Daisy asks.

The woman still looks utterly terrified and she has a hard time even looking at Daisy, as if doing so would be akin to staring directly at the sun.

“What’s your name?” Lena asks, trying to put the young woman at ease.

“I’m sorry. My name is Nia. Nia Nal,” she says. “I just – I’m following the Peace Talks, I mean, who isn’t, and the speech you gave was so inspiring. It’s all over the internet, it’s crazy. But I just wanted to come over and thank you for saying all of that. There have been so many times when I’ve struggled with what makes me different, and to see you stand in front of all of those politicians and hear you celebrate your own differences and tell people to embrace those differences, it just means so much.” 

She takes a deep breath, her nerves seeming to subside now that’s off her chest. Daisy takes a moment to stealthily wipe away the moisture collecting at the corner of her eyes, which nobody notices except for Jemma.

“Sorry, this is probably a lot,” Nia says. “It was just a great speech. And you shouted-out Supergirl at the end, and I love her.”

“She’s the best, right?” Daisy asks, as always, trying to deflect a little. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that my speech affected even one person. Thank you. I was just saying what was in my heart.”

“No, thank you,” Nia says. “I know you’re from Nordica, but I’m so happy that you’re spending some time here in Kryptonia. I hope you and Supergirl and Blackbird can work together some more.”

Daisy quickly glances over at Kara and smiles.

“Oh, I think I can definitely make that happen,” Daisy says.

“And I’m sorry to cut in here, but you’re a Blackbird fan, too?” Alex asks.

Sam looks like she’s about to protest but Alex cuts her off with a quick squeeze of her hand.

“Oh, yeah, I love her, too,” Nia says. “My friends make fun of me for being such a superhero fangirl, but she’s so great. I think she’s a great reminder that redemption is always possible if you put in the work and understand what needs to change. Plus, that suit? So cool.”

“It is very cool, isn’t it?” Lena asks, looking smug.

Nia stares at her for a moment, almost recognizing her, but Lena has long since changed out of her suit and into a band tee and jeans, and who would recognize the CEO of L-Corp like that?

“I love it,” Nia says. “Plus, I’ve heard that she’s the one who convinced the soldiers at the blockade to let everyone through to Nordica, which is incredible. I mean, talk about standing up for what you believe in.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Daisy says, realizing she’s the only one who can actually talk about this in this setting. “That’s exactly what happened. Delivered a big, dramatic speech and everything. It was something to see.”

Nia turns all starry-eyed and if Sam wasn’t about to cry before, she’s right on the edge now.

“Wow, I wish I could meet her, too,” Nia says. “Not that I’m thrilled to meet you, Quake – or, Daisy?”

“You can call me Daisy,” she says. “Thanks so much for coming over and talking to us.”

“Thanks for listening to me ramble,” Nia says, chuckling nervously. “I won’t bother you for too much longer. Looks like you’re really getting into it.”

She glances at the array of food in front of them, which Kara and Sam have already done a good job at tearing through. Kara is mid-bite on a chicken wing, and at least manages to look a little sheepish about it.

“Why don’t you stay and chat with us?” Jemma asks. “We don’t bite, I promise. Unless you get to close to the food.” 

Kara tries to protest, but her voice is muffled by all the food in her mouth. Nia looks like she’s about to politely decline, but Daisy isn’t having any of that.

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Daisy says. “The more the merrier. I have so many funny Supergirl stories your mind is going to explode.”

Nia’s eyes widen and she immediately sits down. Kara just sighs and keeps eating.

* * *

“How’re you feeling, Blackbird?” Daisy asks, clapping her hand on Sam’s shoulder.

The six of them are slowly walking home from the pub, none of them really wanting the night to end, since they’ll just be thrown back into the venomous pit of snake that is the Peace Talks.

“I’m feeling alright, Quake,” Sam says. “I never thought, in a million years, that I’d ever meet a fan. It’s surreal.”

“Well, you’re you. Of course you have fans.”

“I know, it’s just – I still feel like I’m making up for everything I did as Reign. It’s hard for me not to think of myself as someone just desperately seeking atonement that’ll never come.”

Daisy just looks at her for a moment, stunned.

“Damn, I thought I was the poster child for self-hatred. I’m pretty sure you’ve earned everyone’s trust. You did save the city from the Daxamites, and you saved everyone from Thanos.”

“I know, but I’ll always wonder if people really do trust me here. I guess that’s why I’m such good friends with Lena. Neither of us believes that anyone really likes us.”

“Oh, Lena better believe that I like her. I’m really gunning for that coveted best friend slot.”

Sam laughs and playfully smacks her arm.

“How dare you. I’m her best friend!”

“You can both be my best friend!” Lena shouts, her words slightly slurred.

“That’s not how it works!” Daisy and Sam reply, almost at once.

* * *

“Should I?”

“I’m not going to stop you.”

“You’re bad. I love it.”

Daisy is having a lovely dream. She’s on vacation with Jemma in Hawaii and they’re lounging on the beach, sipping local beers and eating plate lunches. It’s a beautiful sunny day, and Jemma is in a gorgeous one-piece suit, and suddenly the dream flits to a different scene, as dreams do. She’s underwater, trying to make her way to the surface, but she can’t. Each time she surfaces, a wave strikes her face, pushing her below once more.

And then, Daisy wakes up to Lena pouring water on her face.

“Lena!” Daisy sputters. “What the hell are you doing?”

She sees that Jemma is there too, who’s trying to stifle her laughter with her prosthetic hand.

“You didn’t stop her?” Daisy asks, looking absolutely betrayed.

“Clearly not,” Jemma says, a playful grin on her face.

“You’ve overslept, Quake,” Lena says. “Get your suit on. Maybe you’ll go viral again.”

Lena walks out of the bedroom without another word. Daisy pushes herself up to a seated position, trying desperately to get her bearings straight.

“Did she really just pour water on me?” Daisy asks. “And viral? I went viral?”

Jemma just chuckles and tosses her phone at her. Daisy looks blearily at the bright screen for a moment, before sitting bolt upright.

“This clip of my speech has over a hundred thousand retweets,” she says, breathlessly. “Are you kidding me?”

She begins to scroll through the comments, amazed at the response she’s getting.

“You’re capturing hearts and minds, my darling,” Jemma says. “Not only that, but El Mayarah has been trending since you gave that speech. At least we know that public opinion is on our side.”

“Well, that’s something,” Daisy understates, still looking at the phone like she’s staring into some strange, alternate dimensions where the public seems to actually like her.

* * *

The week proceeds about as expected. The contingent of politicians from Nordica still try and argue for harsh restrictions on travel, heavy military presence at the beams, and a labyrinthine path to citizenship, but it’s clear that their impact on the discussions is waning. Not only that, but it’s becoming increasingly apparent that they’re simply a vocal minority. As their power fades, the more progressive voices rise up, joining with the already strong voices in Kryptonia that have been arguing for easy, open movement all along.

Daisy’s speech does prove to be a defining movement. It galvanizes the already massive solidarity movement and they hold peaceful, joyous demonstrations in National City and around the world. Their message is simple – they want to welcome the people of their sister universe with open arms. And yes, while it may be simple, it’s effective. El Mayarah becomes a rallying cry for them all, which never fails to overwhelm Kara with emotion.  

While there’s no moment quite like Daisy’s initial speech, there are plenty of others that capture the public’s attention.

During a particularly brutal, anti-alien and anti-movement rant delivered by one of Nordica’s most conservative heads of state, Sam simply stands up, her shoulder square and her chin up, and stares him down. He stumbles on his words the second he sees her, and is unable to build himself back up for the rest of his speech. He sits back down, his cheeks burning red with shame and anger.

In a foolish attempt to call her bluff, one of Kryptonia’s politicians challenges Lena to put her money where her mouth is in regards to National City’s new needs to act as a hub of transit with the influx of people traveling via the beam. Her response is immediate and cutting – she reveals that L-Corp is already working out a billion-dollar plan in collaboration with the US government to improve public transportation in the city and to kickstart the creation of low-cost, high-speed rail system to surrounding cities. Lena allows herself to smile smugly at him once she’s done revealing these plans.

Jemma herself gains some internet notoriety for plainly explaining the science of the beams to all of the well-meaning but uninformed politicians in the Talks. The explanation is quickly clipped out and shared across social media, resulting in everything from job offers from a dozen premier universities to an extremely unfortunate “sciencewife” hashtag that ends up being so pervasive that Cat Grant herself has to revive her oft dormant social media accounts to explain why it’s so reductive and unnecessary. People stop using it after that.

Kara herself delivers an impassioned speech about working together, about how mistrust only breeds fear and hatred, and how they must learn from the past. She talks about how Krypton’s rocky relationship with not only Daxam but several other cultures around the galaxy left them isolated and without allies when they needed them most. When she too ends her speech with El Mayarah, it’s basically all over for the side resisting open movement and solidarity.

And, as such, as the votes are tallied and decisions are made, it’s clear which side has won. Now, not all of the decisions are quite as progressive as someone like Daisy would’ve wanted, but she’s still thrilled by the outcome.

Most spots for immigration between the two worlds are open for skilled job seekers, but there are several broad allowances for asylum seekers. Travel will require a special passport, but the process to obtain one will be extremely streamlined and can be done entirely online on a website that both Lena and Tony have publicly promised to funnel money into. National City will transform itself into a sort of massive hub for travel and culture. Criminals crossing through the beam will be handled by joint courts and juries. In a stunning victory for several activist groups, aliens, Inhumans, and other such groups will be protected by whatever laws safeguard them the most, regardless of which universe they’re in. And, as most had assumed after the stunning defeat of Thanos, superhero teams will be allowed to move fairly freely between worlds in order to provide the most help wherever they’re needed. Kara very plainly high-fives Thor when this is announced, another moment that makes its rounds online.

There are several other smaller decisions that are made, but the flavor of all of them is the same as the larger ones – solidarity between worlds. Stronger together. El Mayarah.

And, with that taken care of, there’s only one thing left to do.

Lena’s party.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a speech, huh? That was fun to write
> 
> Also, y'all know what song I'm referencing this time, yeah? 
> 
> We're almost at the end, now! Probably just one more chapter. To all the readers who have stuck with me this long on this weird, wacky, political journey, I thank you. I love writing all of these characters and I wish I could just do that forever. Maybe I'll even write a sequel to this one, who knows?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks! Sorry for the delay but I'm working on like four projects right now and I'm taking a writing class rn (I want to one day publish a novel!!) Anyway, enjoy!

Always one to outdo herself, Lena flies everyone out to Hawaii, where she reveals her newest investment – a brand new luxury hotel on one of the beaches of Maui. She allows only Kara, Alex, Sam, Daisy, Jemma, and Jess to accompany her on her private jet, however, and merely buys first class tickets for everyone else. All of the Avengers are invited, of course, and they all promise to come.

Daisy and Jemma find themselves in their private suite, getting ready for the party. Being on “Hawaii time,” as the organizers call it, the party is scheduled to start vaguely mid-morning and go as long as people are willing to stay. Jemma is decided being two floral dresses while Daisy has an array of cheesy Aloha shirts spread out on the bed in front of her.

“Jemma, I need your genius brain. Which shirt should I wear?”

Jemma glances over at them for a moment.

“Wear the red one. It shows off your arms the best.”

“Yes ma’am!”

* * *

They head down to the beach to see the party well underway already, laidback, live Hawaiian music and overlapping conversations rising up into the air. There are several large canopy-style tents set up on the sand, housing stations for delicious-smelling food and drink. Already it’s a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly and hardly a cloud in the sky.

They come across Lena first, who greets them with hugs and kisses to the cheek.

“Sweet party, Luthor,” Daisy says. “You rich or something?”

They all laugh at that.

“You look great, by the way,” Jemma says. “I guess you and me are going to try and see if we can tan.”

Lena quickly glances down at herself, observing all of her creamy, pale skin exposed by the dress she’s wearing.

“Oh, I’ve already made peace with burning in the sun,” Lena says. “I tried to invent a 200 SPF sunscreen in the lab last weekend but it was literally too chalky to apply to the skin.”

“Good job, mad scientist,” Daisy says, patting her cheek. “I’m glad to hear you could invent a device mid-battle that shut off Thanos’s gauntlet but you can’t create a stronger sunscreen.”

“The gauntlet thing was just about knowing how radiation works,” Lena says, shrugging. “I guess there’s a reason that sunscreen is only ever so strong.”

“Well, I can’t relate to this conversation at all. I’ve never been sunburnt before,” Daisy says, grinning. “I’m going to grab some food – I’m starving.”

“Go, eat,” Lena says. “I’m not spending all of this money on catering for nothing.”

* * *

They find who else but Kara hanging out by the fine linens and silver trays of the many tables of food, her plate piled high with nothing but spam musubi. She looks incredible, of course, the equatorial sun makes her skin glow and the banana leaf pattern of her shirt seems to come alive beneath it. And then, naturally, she shoves nearly an entire musubi into her mouth at once, just before Daisy and Jemma say hi. She looks at them with wide eyes, trying her hardest to choke down all the food in her mouth.

“You’re leaving some for the other guests, right?” Jemma asks, humor in her eyes.

“I’m trying my hardest,” Kara says, finally managing to swallow her bite of food. “It’s just that Hawaiian food is, like, all meat and starch. It’s wonderful. I might never leave.”

“Hmm, I could get behind that,” Daisy says. “I’d have even more excuses to travel to Hawaii. Maybe Lena could open up a branch of L-Corp here.”

“I know you’re joking, but I would love that,” Kara says. “Maybe I can bring it up, real slyly.”

“Yup, you’re definitely capable of that,” Daisy says, clapping Kara on the back. “Is National City really not enough sun for you?”

“I love National City, but just look at this place,” Kara says, gesturing out towards the water.

“It’s pretty incredible,” Jemma says.

“Yeah, maybe we can all retire here in fifty to sixty years,” Daisy says.

Kara glances between the pair of them for a moment, clearly deep in thought.

“Do you guys ever think about that? Hanging up the cape, so to speak, and doing something else with your lives?”

“Well, I did kind of try that for a bit,” Daisy says. “Didn’t exactly stick. I’m the type that has to leap right into oncoming danger, no matter what.”

“Yes, and you have the bruises to show for it,” Jemma says, squeezing Daisy’s upper arm. “I certainly won’t be doing wetwork forever, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to protect the world. Hopefully I can do more of that in the lab as I get older.”

“What about you, Supergirl?” Daisy asks. “Do you have a protégé you want to hand the crest off to? Have Sam take up the mantle, maybe?”

“Nah, not Sam. I know she’s freelancing for the DEO now, but I can’t make her take up that burden all alone. She has Ruby to worry about,” Kara says. “And being a ‘superhero’ still feels so new to me; I feel like I have so much left to learn. I’m happy to keep fighting the good fight, y’know?”

“Well, I’m glad you two are so willing to throw yourselves in the line of fire,” Jemma says, clapping both of their shoulders. “Keeps my first aid skills fresh.”

* * *

“Hey, Kara,” Sam says, waving at the cheery blonde as she makes her way up the beach.

“Sam!” Kara says, delighted. “How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s incredible. Leave it to Lena to fly everyone out to Hawaii.”

“No kidding!”

They both look out across the sand, watching heroes from Nordica and Kryptonia intermingle, sharing drinks and stories as laughter and overlapping conversations fill the air.

“Hey, we’re alright, aren’t we?” Sam asks, never one to dance around a situation.

“What do you mean?” Kara asks.

Sam sighs, idly pushing around some food on the paper plate resting on her hand.

“About Reign, and the Red Kryptonite,” she says. “Are we okay?”

Kara nods firmly.

“Sam, of course we are. You’re one of my closest friends. You’ve proven time and time again what a hero you are, though it’s not as if you ever needed to prove yourself to begin with.”

“You don’t think about Reign anymore? When you look at me?”

Kara sighs, staring off at the glittering water for a moment.

“I think I’ll always think about Reign. You and the rest of them – it’s all tied to my Kryptonian heritage. That will never go away.”

Sam tries to meet Kara’s eyes but fails, tapping her fork against the edge of her plate to burn off some nervous energy.

“But, I don’t seen Reign when we’re sparring, or when we’re out in the field. I just see you, Sam, my friend who I love very much.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure if you know just how much that means to me. When I was angry with you after the Red Kryptonite incident – and believe me, I was – deep down, I still wanted to live up to the example you had set. Supergirl inspired me as much as she does everyone else.”

Kara already feels close to tears. She knows, in her head, that Supergirl is seen as an inspirational, even aspirational sort of figure, but in her heart she often finds it hard to believe. But right now, hearing one of her closest friends admit that they also view her in that light – it’s overwhelming.

“I don’t know, it felt very teenage,” Sam continues, chuckling. “Like I was pissed at my mom who I also loved a lot.”

“I think I get it. Also, please don’t think of me as your mom.” Kara crinkles her nose and Sam just laughs.

“It was just a simile, Kara. Well, I’m glad we’re good, because I have something else I want to talk to you about.”

Sam looks around, and once she’s satisfied that no one is watching them, she pulls out a velvet box. Kara is so distracted by the jolt of excitement and pure joy that strikes her heart that she doesn’t realize that the box is just a little too large to hold just a ring.

“Rao,” Kara says, her voice a tremulous whisper. “You’re going to ask her.”

“I am,” Sam says, unable to keep her voice steady because of the sheer giddiness she feels. “What better place, right?”

“Sam, this is amazing! I’m so happy for you two! She’s going to lose her mind.”

“I sure hope so. I’m just going to need one thing from you.”

Sam leans in and whispers her plan to Kara, who nods along excitedly.

“Oh, that’s so perfect,” Kara says. “I can’t wait!”

“Neither can I!” 

* * *

“Oh boy, our blonde-haired saviors have found one another,” Daisy says sardonically.

She points to where Carol and Kara are animatedly talking to one another, just a few paces closer to the water.

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Jemma says.

Daisy shrugs.

“Probably about how much stronger and cooler they are than anyone else.”

* * *

“Okay, so, your name is Carol Danvers, right?”

The woman in question smiles and nods happily.

“And you’re Kara Danvers?”

“You know I am!” Kara says, delighted. “That’s so weird. I wonder if we’re universal counterparts or something.”

“Well, we are both total badasses.”

“We absolutely are. Okay, so – powers. You can fly, clearly.”

Just to show off, Carol lifts up, does a lazy flip in the air, and lands back squarely on her feet, something that looks even more surreal since she’s dressed in a button-up shirt and shorts.

“And you have super strength,” Kara says.

“Busted,” Carol says, flexing both of her arms just for show.

Kara laughs, delighted both by Carol’s easy charm and humor and because she’s found someone who’s so similar to her.

“I will say that I can’t shoot energy beams from my hands,” Kara says. “But, I can do this.”

She grabs a handful of sand and, cradling it in her palms, she blasts it with her laser vision. Most of it flies away from the impact, but what’s left turns molten, fusing into a hazy, lumpy piece of glass. Carol looks amazed.

“Here, take it,” Kara says, tossing it at her. “A piece of Nordica for you.”

“How suave,” Carol says, a characteristic smirk on her face. “You must have women all over you.”

Kara’s cheeks turn red and before she can clarify her current relationship status, she’s interrupted by a new participant to their conversation.

“You aren’t flirting with this poor girl, are you?” Maria asks, resting both of her hands on one of Carol’s shoulders and resting her chin against her intertwined fingers.

Maria is, of course, stunning, her skin glowing in the sun and crow’s feet radiating out from the corners of her eyes. She and Carol look completely at ease with one another, and Kara can’t help but think if she and Lena look like that to outsiders.

“What, me, flirt?” Carol asks, smirking. “Never.”

“I’m sure you’re on your best behavior,” Maria says, before turning to Kara. “I’m Maria, by the way, this one’s wife. For some reason.”

Kara shakes her hand. Carol puts her hand to her chest and feigns offense.

“How could you? We’re raising a child together!”

“She’s in her 30s, darling. Just because you don’t age like a normal person anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t.”

“You’re aging? I couldn’t even tell!”

Carol presses her lips to Maria’s. Though Maria’s trying her hardest to seem annoyed, she melts into her, a smile on her face.

Kara just smiles and silently makes her departure, happy to let the two of them be madly in love with one another. She just knows that Sam and Alex will have a marriage just as happy and fulfilling.

* * *

“Jess, right?” Daisy asks, approaching the slim, well-dressed woman.

“Jess Huang, at your service,” she says, jokingly slipping into her customer service voice. “Do you have a message I can pass on to Ms. Luthor?”

“Hell yeah I do, tell her to throw more parties. But, no, I actually wanted to say hi to you. Did you know I’m almost always the only Asian person at these get-togethers, besides May? It’s fine and all, but it can get a little exhausting. And May is not an incredible party guest like I am.”

Jess laughs. Daisy is immediately delighted and regrets not talking to her sooner.

“I know how you feel. The board at L-Corp is entirely white people. One of them once asked me if I had any good recipes for lap cheong, completely out of the blue.”

“No way.”

Jess nods, enjoying the look of horror on Daisy’s face.

“Yup, she was completely shameless about it. And, I mean, I do have a bunch of good recipes from my mom, but I wasn’t going to share those with her.”

This time it’s Daisy who laughs.

“Wow, truly insane. Some people, man, it’s just too much.”

“You’re telling me.”

Jess fidgets with her dress for a moment, picking off imaginary pieces of lint. Daisy almost tells some dumb joke, just to fill the silence, but it seems as if Jess has something she wants to say. So, she doesn’t.

“I’m glad you came over to talk to me,” Jess says. “I was actually trying to work up the nerve to introduce myself to you.”

“Really?” Daisy asks, surprised. “Why would you be nervous about talking to me?”

Jess shrugs, looking somewhat bashful.

“Well, you’re kind of a big deal. You helped save my favorite city in the whole world from a Daxamite invasion, shored up half of L-Corp’s cybersecurity holes, saved the world again from Thanos, and you delivered that awesome speech during the Talks. I was a little starstruck.”

Daisy doesn’t know what to say. Most of the time, she struggles to see herself as anything other than the lonely, grungy, revolution-minded hacker who lived in her own van. Even with everything that’s happened, it’s strange when she’s reminded that everyone else’s perception of her is drastically different.

“You aren’t still starstruck, right, Huang? Because I don’t do autographs,” Daisy says, deciding to deflect a little with humor.

“I think hanging out with you at this party and making fun of white people together is way better than an autograph anyway. And, hey, you really are great, you know that? You’re a hero to a lot of people.”

Daisy is once again stunned speechless. Of all the directions she’d thought this conversation would go, this certainly isn’t one of them.

“Thanks, Jess. That means a lot.”

Jess smiles happily at her.

“You got it. I’ve had to give a lot of anti-self-hatred speeches to Ms. Luthor, so I’m pretty well-practiced by now.” 

“Jess is the best!” Lena’s shout floats above the general din of the party.

* * *

“So, he’s all ‘put your hands up!’ and, being the lawful person that I am, I comply,” Daisy says, gesticulating animatedly with a sweating bottle of beer sloshing about in her hand. “And I have my hands up, and just as he’s about to give his big villain monologue or whatever, I just blast him with my powers. He hits his head on the ground and this dude is out like a light.”

The crowd that’s gathered around her – Kara, Wanda, and Sam – all start laughing uproariously. Daisy takes a swig of beer, looking pleased with herself.

“I really want to try that now,” Wanda says. “Though I’m not sure how I’d ever get in that situation.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have antagonized him so much to begin with,” Daisy says, drumming her fingers against her beer bottle. “Oh well! I’m still alive and he’s still in prison.”

Kara is about to launch into a superheroic story of her own when she feels someone tap her on her shoulder. They all turn to see Thor joining their little circle, his hands behind his back.

“Kara, just the person I was looking for!” Thor says, clapping her back. “I have something for you.”

“Is that so?” Kara asks. “Well, little-known fact about me, I love presents.”

“Excellent, that certainly bodes well,” Thor says. “Kara, you were immediately a master at wielding Stormbreaker, a weapon that would crush the mind of a lesser individual. I was certainly impressed.”

Kara’s face immediately lights up.

“Now, I’m not giving you my super cool, magic axe,” Thor says. “Oh no, that stays with me.”

Kara’s face falls, somewhat. Daisy desperately wants to laugh, but figures that Thor is building up to something big here so she holds off.

“But, wait, I am giving you something almost as cool. Just not as cool as my personal axe,” Thor says. “Here you go, Kara. You’ve earned it.”

He produces a long but thin and very ornate wooden box from behind his back. The surface of the box is polished and smooth, a gold inlay of intricate floral designs snaking across.

“Wow,” Kara says, awe in her voice. “May I open this now?”

“Please,” Thor says.

Kara slowly opens the box and is entranced by what she sees in it, simply staring for a moment. Finally, she reaches inside and pulls out a beautiful, golden sword of a simple yet powerful design held in a masterfully made, leather scabbard. Thor smoothly takes the wooden box from her as Kara unsheathes the sword, letting it gleam in the sun.

“Incredible,” Kara says.

“It’s made from an enchanted form of Uru,” Thor says. “It draws power from the sun, as you do.”

Kara swings the sword in perfect, practiced movements, the blade glowing brightly. This catches Lena’s eye, who watches with unabashed fascination as her girlfriend displays her mastery with swords. Of course Kara is good at that, too.

“It’s perfectly balanced,” Kara marvels. “Light and easy to handle, but I can put some serious power behind it.”

She sheathes the blade once again.

“Thank you,” Kara says. “I really appreciate this. I’ll put it to good use.”

“Oh, I know you will,” Thor says, heartily clapping her on the back. “And, really, it’s the least I could do. You did help save the world and all that.”

“All in a day’s work!” Kara says, smiling cheerfully.

“Hey, big guy,” Daisy says. “Did you bring me a present, too?”

Thor looks at her with guilt clear on his face.

“I, Quake – Daisy, I apologize,” Thor says. “I have nothing for you.”

Daisy stares at him for a moment, watching him squirm, until she breaks out into laughter.

“I’m just messing with you, man,” Daisy says. “You are adorable.”

* * *

“Why is this happening?” Lena sighs.

Jemma just shrugs.

“Daisy has nothing but chips on her shoulder,” she says. “And she mentioned something about wanting to work her way up to fighting Steve. So, she’s starting with Sam and Bucky.”

“She’s going to end up fighting _Captain America_?” Lena asks in disbelief. “And he agreed to this?”

“Apparently the good captain found some alien alcohol and it works on his accelerated metabolism. Go figure.”

Lena and Jemma stand there, drinks cradled in their hands, their faces impassive as if they’re watching a horse race they haven’t placed any money on.

“Doesn’t all this fighting ever get boring to you?” Lena asks.

“Oh, certainly,” Jemma says. “I prefer to out-think my adversaries, naturally. Daisy does too, from time to time, but she also enjoys getting in the thick of things.”

A plume of sand rushes towards them and Jemma activates the shield function of her prosthetic arm to block it from getting into their faces or, more importantly, their drinks. Lena doesn’t even flinch as the sand crests upon the shield and takes a sip of her drink for good measure. Jemma peers to see what’s just happened and a delighted smile grows across her face.

“Never mind, I love fighting,” Jemma says. “She’s just kicked Sam into the ocean.”

Lena immediately begins laughing as she seems Sam pull himself out of the water, his nice party-going clothes completely soaked.

“Actually, yeah, that’s really funny,” Lena says. “Go Daisy! Kick their asses!”

Sam looks up at her with a hurt expression. Daisy kicks him into the waves again.

* * *

The live band switches to a slower song, and Iris, full of romance and a bit of liquor, grabs Barry’s hand and pulls him up to his feet.

“May I have this dance?” Iris asks, eyes winkling.

Barry chuckles, his eyes roaming the beach. “You do realize that nobody else is dancing, yes?”

“Then we’ll be the first. You scared, Flash?”

Barry just smiles at her, amused, before placing his hands on her waist and drawing her in close. “Of course not. I’m a great dancer.”

“Sure. Why don’t you show me?”

The two of them sway back and forth to the music, lost in their own world. Barry’s eyes never leave Iris, and he doesn’t think he wants to look away ever again. After everything they’ve been through, all of the heartache and strife, to get the opportunity to simply be in one another’s presence feels like a small miracle.

Barry rests his forehead against Iris’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You sap.”

Barry laughs, half out of surprise and half out of delight, and Iris is quick to join in. Iris feels another great surge of affection for her husband and she embraces him tightly, resting her cheek against his chest. They still sway to the music, side-to-side, two souls perfectly aligned.

Kara watches them fondly for a moment, hoping desperately that her relationship with Lena will be able to last as theirs has.

* * *

“Hey, pretty girl,” Alex says, resting her hand on Sam’s lower back. “Come here often?”

Sam smiles and kisses her on the lips. Alex thinks she looks especially radiant out here in the sun, with a simple sundress on, barefoot in the sand. The tension and stress that had been weighing her down during the entire Last Patriots debacle seem to have vanished from her entirely, and Alex is thrilled for her.

“You know what? The last time I was in Hawaii was just before I accepted the CFO position at L-Corp,” Sam says. “Lena insisted that I take a vacation for my own sake, since the situation at L-Corp was at the time, according to her, ‘a fucking shitshow.’”

“Well, it kind of was. I remember Lena teaching Kara the intricacies of the stock market just so that she could fully complain about everything to her.”

Sam laughs.

“Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“And look at you now. Part-time stay-at-home mom, part-time beloved hero of National City…”

“And full-time amazing girlfriend, right?”

Alex laughs as Sam once again leans in for a kiss. 

“Absolutely, if you say something nice about me, too.”

Sam taps her chin as if she’s deep in thought, and Alex playfully shoves her. Sam just smiles at her and wraps her arms around her.

“You are by far the second most important person in my life.”

“Second place to Ruby? I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”

They kiss again, Alex’s hands resting gently behind Sam’s neck, ignoring the party going on around them and letting the sounds of the waves rolling up on the sand and the wind rustling the palm trees wash over them. Sam suddenly realizes that this is probably the best moment she’s going to get a better moment than this, so as they break away from the kiss, she slyly signals to Kara to start the plan.

But, before they can begin, explosions burst all around them, buffeting them with concussive shockwaves. Wanda, Strange, and Wong instinctively throw up shields around them as everyone quickly gets changed into their superhero suits. Thor calls Stormbreaker to him in a great burst of lightning as Kara unsheathes her new sword, which glows with the power of the sun itself. Daisy slides on her gauntlets and her suit spontaneously springs forth from them, a new feature courtesy of Lena.

Similarly, Sam presses a button on her watch and her suit springs forth from it, covering her from head to toe. Alex has gotten an ICER rifle from somewhere, and even in her romper she looks completely ready for action.

As the sand settles, they see just who’s crashed their party. There are hundreds of men in massive mech-suits on the beach around them, these hulking robotic creations laden with weaponry of all sorts. A massive spacecraft now hangs in the sky above them, and they’re quick to realize it as one of the Daxamite’s invasion ships, somehow brought back to full functionality. 

Daisy’s attention is drawn by a sudden scream, and she turns to see that Lena is being held in the arms of the largest mech-suit – and who’s piloting it but the prodigal brother himself.

Lex Luthor.

“You must have known I would’ve made my move sooner or later, my dear sister,” he growls into her ear.

“Oh, Lex, you absolute idiot,” Lena says. “You’ve crashed the wrong party.”

As if to accentuate that point, Carol has long since left the beach and is already tearing her way through the Daxamite vessel, explosions echoing across the landscape.

“But…” Lex says, actually looking dumbfounded, for once, before his face once again twists into a furious expression. “No matter. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Now!”

A figure descends from on high, and once the sun stops silhouetting him they all see who it is – a clone of Superman in a horrible pastiche of the famous suit, an unnervingly blank expression on his face. He rockets down towards the crowd of partygoers, aiming for the non-powered individuals.

Sam snarls and shoots up to meet him. She grabs his face with a great sonic boom and slams him into the ground, sending up massive plumes of sand.

“You ruined my proposal!” Sam shouts, staring daggers at Lex. “I’m going to punt you into the sun!”

“Proposal,” Alex says to herself, eyes wide.

That train of thought is quickly cut off as the men in the mech-suits begin firing whatever weaponry they have at the group of heroes.

“Avengers!” Steve shouts. “Kick some ass!”

Daisy laughs as she begins blasting the mech-suits with impunity, either sending them flying across the sand or dissolving the machinery entirely. Behind her, Kara and Sam are easily handling the clone Superman, especially as Thor once again tosses Stormbreaker to Kara. Thor himself summons lightning to strike the men in the mech-suits as Tony blasts them with his repulsors and Steve slams his shield into them. Red light surrounds several of the mechs before they’re blasted into the water, a grinning Wanda behind this cacophony. Barry speeds around the battlefield, pulling non-powered individuals out of the line of fire while also getting his hits in where he can.

Lena herself has somehow managed to disable Lex’s mech-suit and is working with Jemma to pry her beloved brother out.  

But, really, Lex never stood a chance. Because heroes are always stronger together.

El Mayarah.

* * *

The End!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it!! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!!!


End file.
